


Airplanes and Record Players

by onoheiwa



Category: Captain Harlock
Genre: Air Force, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, College Student Logan, Harlock - Freeform, Logan - Freeform, M/M, Pilot Harlock, Romance, record store
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-01 19:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2784734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onoheiwa/pseuds/onoheiwa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Airman Harlock is stationed in Nebraska, having been sent back to the States after being injured in Afghanistan. His best friend, Tochiro, convinces him to actually take a break while he is on leave and explore the town, act like a normal person for a little while. Harlock begrudgingly takes his advice and wanders the streets for the day and stumbles across a record store and a way to waste the afternoon...</p><p> </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Just a Customer

**Author's Note:**

> This is my apology fic, my apology to all my readers of The Freedom to Choose because I accidentally left all my notes for that fic in my dorm room and cannot get them back until January. Since that fic has to be temporarily put on hiatus, I decided to write a new one in the interim. Hopefully all of you will have mercy on me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know nothing about the military, let alone the specifics of the Air Force, so I'm really just making stuff, using some common sense, and hoping it sounds okay. If any of you know any better, let me know.

"Come on, you've been sounding like a funeral director for weeks. You should take a few days off and relax." 

 

"I'm on leave, I'm already off for the next 2 weeks." 

 

"Yeah, but I know you, you're probably sitting at the base all day long staring at the sky with that look of desperate longing. You know, the one that makes me want to shove things at your until you stop being so moody - antique airplane models and cake and rock ballad CDs." 

 

"You know me so well. I'm touched." 

 

"Asshole. Seriously, take a break from the base. You have to be sick of the Air Force blues." 

 

"That's only the dress uniforms. The rest of them are green." 

 

"Yeah. Green. Like an ugly couch from the '70s when everything looked like it had been vomited out of a dying swamp. That's even higher on the scale of depressing colors. Put on some civvies, leave the damn base, and act like a normal person for a few hours. Wander around the mall, eat a gallon of ice cream, harass some teenagers, buy some souvenirs." 

 

"I'm in Nebraska." 

 

"So drink some Kool-Aid or find a hot ranch-hand or a bartender to buy you a drink or something. I don't really care what you do as long as you get off base and stop acting like a soldier for awhile. You're 26 and you're already turning into a temperamental workaholic who drinks to much booze on the weekends. You're so formal all the time and you work even when you're off duty. You need to rest sometimes. I just... I'm worried about you, you know. You've been different, almost like you're perpetually sad ever since Melody - " 

 

"You know, that actually sounds like a great idea. I need to go Tochiro, I have to get out into the world and play civilian for the day. I'll talk to you later." 

 

"Wait, Harlock, hold on a - " 

 

* _click*_  

 

~~~ 

 

 _What am I even doing out here?_  

 

Harlock looked around and sighed. For some reason that he could not explain he had taken Tochiro's advice and left the base to walk through town. What he was supposed to do now that he was out, how exactly he was supposed to act "normal" was beyond him, but he was out. If nothing else, he could make something up the next time Tochiro called. If the man was feeling extra paranoid then Harlock would even have some witnesses to throw at him - the guys who had driven him off-base in their jeep when they left to go pick up supplies in town - stuff for sending letters, personal hygienic supplies, food, minor first-aid supplies, alcohol, while also being driven by the need to get off base and see normal people doing normal every-day things. Sometimes a soldier just needed to feed that sense of nostalgia that reared its head whenever civilians were around, watching them run errands and yell at their kids and weed the garden or take out the trash and walk their dogs and hold hands with their sweethearts. It made you feel a little lonely, being reminded of how much you missed your own family and friends, but it was nice to see that other people were happy, nice to see that what you were doing was paying off. Life still went on as normal for the rest of the world, so maybe all that was sacrificed wasn't in vain. Sometimes all the motivation you needed was hearing young couples bicker about petty things or a group of protestors with picket signs or naked kids running through the sprinklers. Nobody was concerned about bombings or people dying or their freedom disappearing and that was exactly the way it should be. 

 

Harlock was rarely so sentimental, though. He understood the desperate need for freedom, but he hadn't joined the Air Force to give that to other people while forsaking his own. No, he joined so he could fly. He'd always wanted to. He was that kid who climbed every tree in sight and whose father told stories of having to climb onto the roof to carry him down before he jumped and had model planes hung all over his bedroom ceiling. His parents put him in military school in high school, which was where he met Tochiro, his best friend. The two of them bonded over a love of flying, although Tochiro was more interested in the science behind it and working with the engineering and designing of planes to actually get them into the sky. Harlock was a pilot. The two of them were partners and tied at the hip for those four years, hardly leaving each other's sight.

 

They joined the Air Force together and ended up in the same unit. That's where they met Melody, Harlock's copilot and wingman. The three of them were close, working together, flying together, living alongside each other for two years. Nothing could have been better. 

 

Harlock's five year commitment was almost up, though. He had gotten injured while in Afghanistan and had been sent back to the states. Now he would be working at a base in Nebraska, mostly doing groundwork while he recovered. He would have to decide soon whether to stay on and take a new position or get out of the military. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do. 

 

Tochiro was back in the states too, but at a different base, doing some design work on a new type of jet after having a transfer request granted. They didn't see each other much anymore, but they tried to call every couple of weeks and Tochiro sent letters from time-to-time with selfies taken in themed restaurants and historic landmarks he went to because he liked to make fun of tourists. They made Harlock smile, even if he would never admit it to Tochiro. He missed his best friend so it was nice to hear from him periodically. 

 

It didn't help the loneliness, though. A life in the military tended to be lonely, not just because you were away from family and friends, but also because you knew that all your men, your friends and coworkers could end up dead any day. It made it hard to get close to anyone, to care about them, even though you trusted them explicitly and relied on them daily. They were your partners and they had your back, but you never really got close. At least, that is how Harlock had handled it, especially after - 

 

Harlock stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and shook his head hard once. He didn't think about  _that_. It made it hard to breathe when he did, hard to see, and he was not in a place where he could break down like that. He never was. 

 

He looked around to get his bearings. He had been walking for a few blocks already, not really paying any attention to the buildings and people he walked past. He hadn't really had a goal or a destination in mind when he had hopped out of the jeep when the boys stopped at a restaurant just north of the base. He figured he would wander around for a few hours, long enough to convince Tochiro that he had attempted normalcy for a day, and then walk back to base. Although, at the rate he was going, he would end up walking clear to the other end of town and then have to turn around and walk back down the same road to get back to base. There was no way he wanted to see the same road, the same boring sites twice. He needed to turn off somewhere. 

 

It looked like the road ended a few blocks down anyway because of the railroad tracks and a park beyond that, so he would need to wander around that part of town for a bit. He seemed to be on the edge of a business area; maybe there were some stores he could peruse for awhile that would be half-way interesting. 

 

He went north again at the next road, wanting to get a little farther away from the base, crossing the street and strolling down the far sidewalk. It was the middle of the afternoon on a weekday, so it was pretty slow. Only a few cars on the road and almost no one walking. It was rather quiet and Harlock appreciated it after the noisiness of a military base. There wasn't much to see on this street - a dance studio, a bar, a laundromat. Nothing worth entering, anyway, since the bar wasn't even open yet. Harlock was about to zone out again, getting lost in his thoughts when he noticed the sign for the building next to the laundromat.

 

It was a record store, the front plastered with advertisements and posters about events in the local community. He looked through the window and saw shelf upon shelf stacked with old vinyls, the walls covered in them, filling the room from front to back leaving hardly any room to walk. The lighting was those atrocious and glaring bulbs in the long plastic covers and the place looked like in smelled like dust and old people. It looked like the kind of place you could get lost and distracted in for hours; it looked like the perfect place to play civilian and Harlock decided then and there he would go no farther that day. He could browse the old records for a couple hours, hit the place across the street for some dinner when it started to get dark, and then walk back to the base. He probably hadn't even gone a mile so he could be back and in bed asleep long before the drinkers got back from the bars. Without further deliberation, he swung open the door and stepped inside, heading for the closest rack, hoping to blend in with the carpet until sunset. 

 

The shelves were short blocks of wood, just set on the floor, some with wooden racks to place the records upright in to flip through, like a recipe box, others, the vinyls were just stacked on top and you had to pick them up one at a time and move them around to see what was underneath. It was a massive pain in the ass to look through them, but it least it was taking up some time. Many of the records were remakes of old songs or new music put on records for those who liked the old-fashioned sound of a record player. There were a few genuine gems scattered here and there, honest-to-goodness records from decades past, although most of those were of the less popular artists and genres. It was hard to find any genuinely old vinyls of the good music, let alone in good enough condition to sell. They most certainly were not likely to end up in any old stack in the middle of the store, not if the employees knew anything about anything. No, those oldies-but-goodies would have places of honor in glass cases and on their own individual stands, displayed proudly on the back walls and at the register. They might even be lucky enough to have some signed copies. That would be neat to see. 

 

But Harlock was not here for that nor did he even really care. He liked music, sure, but he was no fan of anything and was certainly not picky enough to care what machine he used to play the music from. Fanatics and antique-hunters and hipsters liked to caw on and on about the different qualities of sound that came from headphones versus earbuds versus Bose speakers versus record players, but it all sounded pretty much the same to Harlock, especially after having spent a few years in a fighter jet flying at the speed of sound. His ears were not all that sensitive anymore. It was his eyes that were strong and it was them that helped him spot the true treasure in the room. 

 

In the next aisle over, facing Harlock but much closer to the back of the store was a young man, an employee judging by the fact that he was marking the vinyls he was putting onto a nearly empty shelf with price tags. He was tall and lithe, long legs that stretched for miles and thin but strong arms. His jeans sat low on his hips and the hem of his dark blue t-shirt ended just past his belt loops. He had shaggy brown hair that covered his ears and dark eyes, though Harlock was too far away to see the color. He was not upset about that, no, not at all. 

 

Okay, maybe he was. The guy was good looking, beautiful almost. He looked kind of fragile, although the shape of his arms and legs bespoke muscles toned and strong. He was fit -  _a swimmer, maybe? It would explain the wide shoulders and the strength, despite how thin his is._  He wondered if the guy was more likely to get broken by someone or to break them himself. He could imagine him being gentle enough to get walked all over until he reached his breaking point, when suddenly He would become an unstoppable force that would tear down anyone and anything that crossed him. He thought it would be magnificent to see, all that graceful power unleashed to show the world what for. 

 

Harlock blinked, a little surprised at his interest in the guy, wondering how long he had been standing there, openly staring. He had known for a long time that he was just as attracted to men as to women, but he wasn't normally so drawn to anyone, regardless of the gender. He had seen his fare share of attractive people, but it was not usually a matter of interest for him. He hooked up with someone here and there when the mood struck him, but it was rare; he wanted to find the right person, sometimes even admitted to himself that he thought soul mates were real, but he never really actively tried to find that person. He figured the person would come along when they came along and there was no point getting all worried about it or chasing after anyone who caught his eye, so he just chose not to think about it most of the time. He liked to think he was waiting for that moment when he would look at someone and just think they were perfect, at least physically, and that everything would fall into place. It hadn't happened yet, so he just went along with life like normal and since he had been in the military he just didn't have the time or the energy to devote to a relationship anyway. And ever since Melody - 

 

_No. No. I just... I don't like the hassle, or the confusion. Relationships are stressful and confusing and I have not wanted to deal with that and I have yet to find the right person anyway. That is why I have not had a date in so long, that is all. It has nothing to do with... with her... or that... or any of that._

 

As he sat with his fingertips digging into the top row of vinyls and his face screwed up in concentration, trying to will away his wandering thoughts, the young man had gotten closer. When Harlock looked up again, he was just a couple feet away on the other side of the shelves, watching him carefully. 

 

"You alright?" 

 

"Yeah. Yes. Just a headache."

 

Harlock pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes again to help the lie along a little bit. 

 

"Well, okay. Can I help you with anything?" 

 

Harlock opened his eyes again and looked at the guy.  _Brown. His eyes are a rich, dark brown. Like chocolate._ Those eyes were looking straight into his own with a hint of polite concern, his eyebrows crunched a bit in the center of his forehead. It was a nice look on him - confusion and worry.  _  
_

 

"No, I'm alright. Just looking." 

 

"Okay. Let me know if you need anything." 

 

And with that, the guy turned around and walked back to his shelf of vinyls at the end of the aisle. No backward glance, no elevator gaze sweeping up and down Harlock's body, no attempt to start a conversation. Just a quick interaction between employee and customer. 

 

Why he was feeling so disappointed, Harlock had no idea. Of course, the guy was probably straight so of course he wasn't going to show any interest in Harlock. Not only that, but he was on the clock so his mind was probably just on work and not trying to hit on any half-way decently good-looking person who came in the door. Besides, even if he was gay, or at least bi, there was no reason to think he wouldn't have a significant other already. He was attractive, seemed perfectly nice. More than likely he had someone who would be waiting for him when he got off the clock. Whatever the reason Harlock had gotten interested in the guy when he hadn't taken the time to check anyone out in years, it was pointless to sit around wishing for anything different.  _He is a normal guy doing his job. I am only another customer out of hundreds he sees on a weekly basis. There is no reason to think of yourself as special_.  _  
_

 

His thoughts were confirmed about an hour later. Chocolate eyes had gone to the front of the store and made some notes in a couple of folders, then waved to the other employee behind the counter and walked outside to lean against the front window. A couple minutes later a car pulled up to the curb and a woman stepped out - long, blonde hair, hourglass figure, sky-high heels, tight jeans, and a leather jacket to match the sexiness of her red corvette. The woman was hot as Hell and she walked right up to the guy and handed him a paper bag, which he promptly opened to pull out a burger and started taking bites out of it. She stood there with her hands on her hips and shaking her head. They talked for a minute and then climbed in the car and drove away. 

 

 _See. You are hardly special. Time to stop pining and get back to work_. Harlock set down the record he was holding and sighed, hunched over the stack of vinyls. Then he took a deep breath, stood up straight, and walked out of the store to look for some dinner.  

 

~~~ 

 

Harlock pushed the door closed behind him and stood for a moment, before leaning back against the wood and sighing. His head dropped forward and he stared at his shoes, blankly and unthinkingly. After a minute or two, he began to toe off his shoes and drag himself off of the door to move forward into his room. Thankfully, he didn't have to share with anyone so he didn't have to explain why he looked so morose. 

 

 _"I_ don't even know why I'm morose," Harlock muttered quietly while he hung his jacket on its hook next to the bathroom. He walked over to the nightstand by his bed and removed his belt and unloaded his pockets: phone, wallet, Chapstick, spare change, knife and sheath from the belt, and receipt from the bar where he had bought dinner. He hadn't eaten much, only finishing about half the burger and managing a couple of fries. The food had smelled great, hot and greasy and filling, but had turned his stomach and throat toward nausea after only a few bites. He ended up staring at it for nearly a half-hour before admitting that he wasn't going to finish it, so he left the basket with his partially consumed dinner on the table and left, bringing the bottle of water with him. 

 

Now he was back on base with nothing to do, like normal, until he was tired enough to go to sleep. There was probably only an hour or two left of time to kill before that became the case ( _It's not as if I stay up that late anyway, and the walk back took an hour or two already_ ), so Harlock was contemplating just showering and climbing into bed with a book to read until his eyes started to drift closed. Well, not so much contemplating as actually doing, since he was already beginning to remove his clothes and walk over to the bathroom. 

 

Harlock was luckier than most of the soldiers in the base; he had his own room with a private bathroom. Normally the nicer quarters were reserved for higher ranking officers, but when he had been sent back to the states someone had decided it was better for him not to stay in the barracks and share the space with a couple hundred other men. Something about needing his own space and privacy in which to heal or some other psychological jargon that Harlock didn't understand. He didn't really get it or care all that much either way, other than the fact that it had gotten him his own room far from the noise and rowdiness of the barracks. He had only been there for two full days but he was already enjoying it immensely. 

 

Harlock climbed into the tub, having turned the water on scaldingly hot, steaming up the bathroom, warming the entire room since he had left the bathroom door open, and turning his skin red. He slid off the patch over the right side of his face to clean off the sweat under it and washed his hair, then stood under the spray for awhile, angling the shower head so he could lean against the wall and still get doused all across his chest and side. Mostly he just stared, his good eye focused on a single spot low on the wall but not really seeing anything, lost in his own head. Sometimes it felt like he wasn't thinking at all; others, as if he was thinking of so many things that he couldn't actually focus on any of them and so he might as well have been completely empty-headed. Right now, it had started with the former, before he found his thoughts drifting back to the afternoon he had spent in the record store and the chocolate-eyed employee. 

 

_He had stains on his jeans, like dirt. It was the same color as his eyes._

 

There really wasn't any reason to keep thinking about the guy, let alone to get fixed on such an insignificant detail. Their entire interaction had lasted less than a minute and he had only actually been in the same building as the guy for... what? Two hours? And in all that time the guy had looked at him once and only to check to see if he was actually going to purchase anything or not. That did not warrant how much attention Harlock's brain was devoting to this guy and his ridiculously long shaggy brown hair or his long and lean limbs or the way his voice sounded so gentle and smooth or his dumb, shiny, girly ( _gorgeous_ ) brown eyes. 

 

"I really need to find a hobby. Maybe extreme coupon-ing or proofreading amateur literature or something." Something that required lots of thinking so his mind would be too occupied with  _other_ things. Not some random employee in a random record store that just happened to be within walking distance of the base that he could leave whenever he pleased for the next two weeks. Such details were completely and totally irrelevant. 

 

 _Right. Because you don't care at all._  

 

Harlock sighed again and reached out to turn off the water, deciding it was pointless to waste it if all he was going to do was stand there, too busy thinking to even bother with enjoying the warmth and the feeling of the water sliding down his body. He ran the towel over his limbs before wrapping it around his waist and going to his closet to pull on a pair of sweatpants, returning the towel to its hook by the tub. He brushed his teeth and was about to grab a book and climb into bed when his phone rang. Knowing it was probably Tochiro, he took his time finishing at the sink before meandering back to the nightstand. By then, the thirty seconds for the tone were over and the phone went silent. Harlock stood there for a moment smiling with knowing amusement before it began to ring again, then picked it up and hit the button to answer the call. 

 

"You ass. You knew it was me and didn't answer on purpose." 

 

"I have no idea what you mean. That is a rather rude accusation, don't you think?" 

 

"Whatever, I can hear that smug smirk of yours." 

 

Harlock smirked a little bigger. 

 

"Anyway, I assume that as much as you protested my suggestion this morning you  _did_ actually leave the base today, right?" 

 

"Actually, I spent a most invigorating afternoon discussing the contrasting Greek philosophies of Cynicism and Stoicism with a fellow soldier whilst lying in the grass under a tree and enjoying the afternoon sunshine." 

 

"..." 

 

"... I walked around for a few blocks, spent a couple of hours in a record store, and ate dinner at a bar. Is that satisfactory?" 

 

"Hmm, a record store? Doesn't really seem like your kind of thing, though I guess it's a good way to waste time when you have no friends to hang out with. Did you talk to anyone?" 

 

"Besides ordering my dinner and a brief exchange with an employee at the record store? No."

 

"Why were you talking to an employee at the record store?" 

 

"You're rather more inquisitive than usual." 

 

"I have nothing interesting going on in my life so I'm living through you." 

 

"Yes, because mine is just riveting." 

 

"At the moment, out of the two of us you are the only one who has left base recently, so yes. So, why were you talking to an employee? Were you buying a record?" 

 

"What use would I have with a record when I don't own a turntable?"

 

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking. Were you wanting to know more about old music or antique music players or something? Or did they see how lost and confused you were and thought you needed directions?" Harlock could hear his friend smirking. "Or was she hitting on you? Wait, did you go out in your uniform? Girls always hit guys in uniforms, it's like a guarantee."

 

Harlock huffed and furrowed his brow. "No, I was in civvies, par your instructions, and no, _he_ was not hitting on me. At all." Harlock had meant the last sentence to come out more forceful and less ~~sad~~   ~~frustrated~~ irritated, wanting Tochiro to take a hint that nothing had happened, it didn't really matter, and to stop digging. He wasn't sure he succeeded though. 

 

".... You... you almost sound disappointed."

 

 _Dammit._ "What?" 

 

"I don't know, I mean, I know you're not usually really all that interested in anyone of any gender for anything other than your job. Or Melody and I, seeing as we're your friends and all, but in all the years I've known you I think I've seen you actually respond to someone hitting on you with what seems like reciprocal interest like twice. But just now you sounded a little put out when you said the guy wasn't hitting on you. Did you want him to?" 

 

"No. Of course not, it hardly matters to me who he is interested in. He has a girlfriend anyway, so what reason would he have to hit on me?" 

 

"How do you know he has a girlfriend? Hold on a second, you haven't actually told me yet what you two talked about." 

 

"I know he has a girl friend because she picked him up after his shift. And you could hardly call what we did talking, he simply asked me if I needed help with anything and I said that I was just looking. That was it."  

 

"Could have been his sister." 

 

"Unlikely. They looked nothing alike." 

 

"You never know for sure unless you ask." 

 

"Tochiro - " 

 

"What? I'm just saying! Go back there and talk to him. What would it hurt? If he's got a girlfriend then you let it go and move on, it's not like it'll matter, you don't even know the guy. And if he's single, then ask him to dinner or something. I haven't seen you this bothered by someone in a long time so I really think you need to do something about it, make a move and see if it goes somewhere. Otherwise it's just going to eat at you for weeks. You know you have a hard time letting things go once they catch your interest." 

 

"..." 

 

"Harlock. Go talk to him." 

 

"... I... I may go back to the store sometime." 

 

"Ha! Okay, listen, I've gotta go man, I have a shit ton of drafting to do for the designs for this plane, so I'm gonna let you go. Let me know how it goes, yeah?" 

 

"Yeah, Tochiro, I will. Bye." 

 

Harlock hung up before his friend could say anything else, wishing he had just let his second call go to voicemail rather than answering it. Tochiro had always been able to read him far better than he liked to admit, somehow able to sense all the emotions and thoughts tumbling through him without Harlock ever actually saying anything about them and now he had said he would go talk to that employee, which meant Tochiro would harass him about it constantly until he actually did. He really wasn't looking forward to getting rejected. Probably politely and kindly, since the guy seemed nice, but it would still be embarrassing. Harlock wasn't used to having to make the first move on anyone. When he was in the mood he just went to a bar or a club and waited for someone to approach him first. It didn't usually take too long; Tochiro had told him years ago that he was a good looking guy and since no one had ever told him otherwise Harlock was inclined to believe him. It had worked to his advantage over the years, but now he didn't think it would be enough, especially since all evidence pointed to the guy being straight. Now matter how hot he was it wasn't going to help if the guy didn't like men. 

 

Harlock sighed for what seemed like the 100th time that day, put his phone back on the nightstand, and went over to shut off the light. Reading wasn't going to be able to distract from his nervous and hectic thoughts; sleep would work much better and last far longer. It was time to dream and forget this day had happened for a few hours. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **As of February 11, 2015 I changed Harlock's age from 24 to 26. When I made Kei 24 I felt like Harlock needed to be older, partially because he seems older than her and partially because I've always thought the age difference between Harlock and Logan should be kind of significant. 3 years was not enough, so I pushed it back some more. Doesn't really change anything detail-wise for the story, just one of those little things that might affect your perspective and might help with the tone/mood/relationships/etc.


	2. A Girl With a Crush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I know I said this was an apology fic to fill in the few weeks of Christmas break and that I haven't really updated a whole lot. I'm sorry. I am updating now and hopefully I will be able to crank out another chapter before Sunday when I get back to my notes for The Freedom to Choose. And then you will have two Harlock fics going at the same time! 
> 
> I have no idea how long this one will be, although I can see it having the potential to be fairly long. You know, so long as the creative juices keep flowing (Does anyone else find that phrase to just sound really gross?). 
> 
> Okay. Enough blabbing from me. You can go read now. Go on.

It was two days before Harlock made his way back to the record store, having spent the previous day wandering around the base and avoiding anyone who recognized him so he didn't have to endure the unpleasantness of making small talk. He had laid in bed for nearly two hours after waking up doing nothing but shifting or rolling every few minutes and staring, mind mostly blank. After dinner he had done some stretching, then showered and sat around reading for a few hours before passing out over the covers sometime before midnight. 

 

Knowing Tochiro would probably not grace him with more than a day or two of silence he had decided to go back into town today and at least attempt a conversation with the record store employee. Even if they only exchanged a few pleasantries it would keep Tochiro happy for a couple more days. And if he could get it confirmed that the guy was taken then Harlock could get the issue dropped entirely and not have to think about warm brown eyes and a lithe body anymore. Like ever. 

 

So Friday morning found Harlock standing in front of the record store trying to work up the nerve to go through the doors. He wasn't having much luck. He had been standing and staring at the posters plastered in the windows for nearly 10 minutes, not reading anything or doing much of anything at all. Except standing. 

 

 _This is pathetic. Just go in there. For all you know he is not even working and even if he is he probably doesn't remember you_. 

 

"Hey, you know the door is unlocked, right?" 

 

Harlock whipped around at the familiar voice, heart slamming in his chest and mouth going dry. His eyes widened when they confirmed that the person standing next to him was the employee who had inserted himself so readily into Harlock's head. 

 

"Um, yes, I was just. Taking a look at the posters." 

 

"Ah. You were in here the other day, weren't you? How's your headache?" 

 

 _Shit! He remembers me? Why the hell would he remember me? With all the customers they have, why would he remember one random guy?_ "Uh. Yes. That was me. And my head is fine." Harlock rapped his knuckles against his skull. "Good as new." 

 

A smile broke across the guys face. Not one of those lame, polite smiles, but a genuine one, lighting up his eyes and everything. "Good. I mean, my mom used to get these really bad headaches when I was a kid. It would take her out for a whole afternoon and I always remember thinking that it must suck. I'm glad you're alright, though." 

 

"...Thank you." 

 

The guy smiled again, a little softer this time, and nodded once. "Well I have to go in to start my shift. Are... you coming in or are you still looking at the posters?" 

 

"What? Oh, right. No, I'll come in now." 

 

The guy stepped over to the door and held it open for Harlock, who stepped through with a nod of thanks. The employee shot him another smile and walked toward the back of the store where there was a door, probably leading to the storerooms and offices. Harlock stood there watching him the whole time before shaking his head slightly and heading to the shelf where he had stopped browsing the last time he had been in there, shifting stacks around to read the titles of each and every album. If he was going to spend his afternoons here he might as well be thorough so that he didn't end up looking through the same shelves over and over and making people wonder why he kept coming back. He needed to appear absorbed. Interested. 

 

 _Obsessed?_  Harlock felt like a dweeb, combing through all the old and dusty cardboard sleeves, like some middle-aged man trying to relive the glory days by stocking his shelves with memorabilia that he would never actually use after having spent hours and days and weeks searching for the items displayed. It was stupid and a waste of time and yet he knew he wasn't going to leave because he had a goal. Although the goal wasn't much better than his means to it: spending as much time in the record store as he could so that he could watching a certain employee for as long as possible. And maybe getting a chance to talk to him. 

 

 _You are acting like a teenage girl with a crush._ Harlock knew if Tochiro were there he would be laughing his ass of at him, only too aware of the thoughts rolling around in his head, probably snickering quietly and making smart ass comments about Harlock just needing a diary and some sneakily-taken photos to complete the look.

 

The problem was that Harlock really had no idea how to deal with the whole situation. He had never really been interested in anyone else before, let alone someone he knew absolutely nothing about, other than their job. Any relationships had been short and always initiated by the other person before they quickly realized that Harlock was not boyfriend material. He was arrogant and idealistic and a perfectionist and he was always keeping secrets. Or, at the very least, just not ever really talking about what he was thinking or feeling and, unfortunately, that is kind of an important part of serious relationships.

 

It wasn't that Harlock didn't know how to talk about those kinds of things, those deep and important parts of himself. He did know, he had been doing it with Tochiro almost his whole life and he had done it again with Melody. It was more that he had a hard time trusting anyone and every time someone had wanted to be with him they just expected that since they kind of liked each other and that they were in a relationship that all those things would just come pouring out. Like they expected Harlock to just start talking about that stuff even though they didn't really know each other at all nor known each other for very long. Harlock just didn't feel comfortable sharing those kinds of things so he usually just shrugged the other person off or diverted the conversation. It would work for awhile, but they always caught on and then broke it off saying some variation of "I just feel like you're keeping all these secrets from me and I just want to get to know you better but I can't because you won't let me." He wasn't really sure what they meant. When he had met Melody he hadn't told her his whole life story ever or shared anything deep for a long time but he always felt like she knew him better than any of those people ever had, even the few that he had actually shared stories of his childhood and his past with. 

 

He always wondered what he was doing wrong. Once he started to trust them a little more or if they were asking about less serious and deep topics, if they asked him questions, he answered. If they told him to tell them what he was thinking, he did. But they always seemed frustrated, like he wasn't really doing what they wanted him to. Tochiro had once said that Harlock was a person that was really hard to understand and even harder to read - like it was hard to see what he was feeling or thinking from just looking at him and, since he was a quiet person, that was all anyone had to go on. It meant that most people would have to try a lot harder and pay attention more intently and for far longer to get to know him as well as they would another person. Most people were not willing to put forth that effort and probably didn't even realize they were giving up; they just thought that Harlock was trying to hide from them or something, not knowing that it was simply part of his personality to hold back until he was certain he could trust them completely. 

 

On top of that, they always wanted him to start initiating those kind of conversations, to just bring them up all on his own. Harlock wasn't really sure why, but those kinds of things never really popped into his head; he never really thought to share those kinds of things. The few times that he did he typically felt uncomfortable with the idea of doing so and would keep the stories or thoughts to himself. Once or twice a significant other had expressed their frustration with the fact that they always had to go digging to figure out what was going on in Harlock's head, that he never just said so without prompting. 

 

 _It just never seems important enough to say out loud_. Harlock was a quiet person, normally, only speaking when he felt it was necessary or that what he said would contribute to the conversation. Most of the time he didn't think that what he was thinking was important, so he stayed silent. Which was why they always had to ask and part of the reason why they always ended up frustrated with him and eventually broke things off. "I feel like I don't even know you," or something of the like always rolling off their tongues once or twice during the break-up talk. 

 

So, it wasn't entirely Harlock's fault that he was rather clueless when it came to relationships. He had never been in a healthy, or even a normal relationship, really, because he had never really liked the other person much, let alone trusted them. He went along with it hoping something would grow over time, but they never stuck around long enough for that to happen. They were never patient enough to wait for his trust or to wait for him to start talking when he was ready. They were always pushing him too hard to quickly. And he had never started any of those relationships, anyway, they had come to him, so he had never really been interested enough in his significant others to convince them to stick it out awhile longer. 

 

So how was he supposed to deal with this sudden and strange interest in a random stranger? How was he supposed to explain the tightness in his chest when he had seen that women walk up to him or the way his breathing had stuttered when the guy had smiled at him this morning? How was he supposed to  _talk_ to him? He was already screwing it up profoundly. He knew he sounded idiotic every time he opened his mouth, stuttering and stumbling for words, losing the articulateness he normally possessed and reverting to a starstruck fangirl. It was shameful, is what it was. And embarrassing and utterly juvenile, but Harlock knew better than to think he would be able to get back his easy eloquence when that employee was in the room. 

 

And, speaking of whom, there he was, coming out of the back room and heading toward the front counter. He was dressed pretty much the same as he had been two days ago, jeans and a dark t-shirt, only today he had leather combat boots instead of sneakers and had shown up in a leather jacket, although that was missing now, likely hung somewhere in the back. He wasn't wearing any make-up or jewelry like Harlock had seen some guys do, the wannabe rockstars or goth kids. He didn't even look like a biker or anything, just a guy who liked a little leather in his wardrobe. It looked good on him, plain old jeans and t-shirts with a masculine touch in the cool spring weather. 

 

He had gone behind the counter and was shuffling through a few stacks of papers, reordering and organizing the store's paperwork and receipts and such, making neat piles and stapling things together. The sunlight was coming in through the windows in varying colors as the beams filtered through the posters: yellow, pink, orange, blue, green, white. It made a weird, hazy spectrum of light around the area of the counter, except for the few gaps in the collage where pure sun streamed in. One such spot landed right on the man's head and left shoulder, turning his hair golden and putting his face in a shadow. Every now and then he would shift or turn and the sunlight would splash across his face, highlighting a long and narrow jaw, eyebrows creased in concentration, and clear, pale skin. 

 

Harlock found himself staring, clutching an album in his fingers, watching the light play across the man's body and cataloguing everything. The guy was graceful, moving smoothly and easily, no jerking or halting despite his long limbs that should have made him look awkward and clumsy. A few times over the next hour or so the phone would ring and the guy would proceed to speak softly with whoever was on the other end, answering questions or searching for documents, voice low and as smooth and fluid as everything else about him. Once or twice he glanced around the store, eyes piercing even from such a long distance. Harlock would duck his head quickly and pretend to be sorting through the records still, waiting a few moments before tentatively looking up again and going back to the staring once he had confirmed the guy wasn't looking anymore. 

 

Eventually the man finished with whatever office-type work he had been taking care of and returned to the back room, emerging a few minutes later with a cart of records that he pushed over to the same shelf he had been at when Harlock had been there two days ago. No further progress had been made, so Harlock thought that he might not have been working the day before. The guy began to quietly place price stickers on each and every album before setting them down on the shelves in neat stacks, seemingly not bothering to put them in any kind of order. 

 

Knowing that the closer proximity would make staring a much harder objective to achieve, Harlock resumed his perusal of the records, though he was having a hard time concentrating on what he was seeing or reading. He read every title, every artist or band name, but mindlessly, uncomprehendingly so, the words simply sliding through his brain without actually registering consciously. He was going through the motions of reading and acting like he was absorbed in his task, so although his eyes moved in regular motions across the album fronts and his hands continued to sort methodically through the piles, his mind was focused entirely on thoughts of the man one aisle over. 

 

The fluorescent lights of the store were not nearly as flattering on the man or as fascinating to watch play over his features as the sunlight had been, but less distance between them made up for it. Now Harlock could see the exact shade of soft-pink to his lips, the way his hair curled away from his neck at the bottom of his ears, the texture of his cotton t-shirt. Only now he had to take such observations in glances rather than long, lingering looks, or he risked revealing his  ~~obsession~~ curiosity. 

 

It went on like that for awhile, Harlock going unseeingly through the stacks of records, chancing glances at the employee. Said employee was labeling albums and filling up the shelves, the cart slowly emptying stack by stack. Once every one of them had been tagged and put on a shelf, Harlock watched as the guy pushed the cart down the aisle to stop at the shelf directly opposite of Harlock, where he started to pick up each record, take off the price stickers and put them on the cart. He watched curiously, wondering why so many records were being taken away. After a moment he noticed the man's hands had stopped moving and, when he looked up, he found himself being watched by dark brown eyes. Harlock froze, thinking he had been caught and the guy would tell him to back off. He waited for him to speak, rewarded a moment later when the man started to speak, slowly, kind of hesitantly, like he wasn't sure what he was saying was the kind of response Harlock had been looking for, which was true, since the words coming out of his mouth were not what Harlock had been expecting. 

 

"The store did rather well at a promotional event recently and business has picked up since then, so the boss has decided to lower the price of most of the merchandise. He figures it will be better for business in the long run and for overall profit. We can actually afford to do that now, since the place has gotten well established in the community and risen in popularity recently, even though the profit-per-record will be lower. I happen to agree, although it means I have to go through every stack and relabel every single record." 

 

Harlock's brow wrinkled. "Would it not it be easier to put signs at the end of every aisle? Or on each shelf?" 

 

At Harlock's response, it looked like the man's shoulders dropped a bit, like they had been tense and were relaxed now. The guy huffed in frustration, almost long enough for it to be a sigh and went back to removing stickers. "Yeah, but that would require reorganizing the whole store. See, right now, as you have probably noticed, there is no rhyme or reason to any of it. The prices are mostly based on popularity which is largely based on the genres and specific artists and albums. I had to spend an entire week studying this chart the boss made up that explains what everything should be priced at before I could start working on it." 

 

"If it is so complicated, why can he not simply do it himself?" Harlock asked, a little confused. He understood the owner's desire to reprice everything, but he thought that having the store under some semblance of order would be far more helpful so that people could actually find what they were looking for within a reasonable amount of time. 

 

The guy smiled a little, looking irritated and fond at the same time. "He's busy with promotion events for the next couple of weeks. Fairs and Fall festivals and stuff all over the state, trying to get our name out there. He wants the pricing done by the end of the month so that it will all be ready for the new flow of customers he's hoping will start coming." He sounded a little skeptical, like he didn't think it would be terribly successful, but Harlock didn't comment on it, knowing it would be disrespectful to judge another man's business strategy with one of his employees. Better to just keep the thoughts to himself and let the guy decide what to think on his own. "Anyway, that's why I'm taking all these albums off. It's easiest to take off all the old labels and put them on another surface and then put the new labels on while refilling the shelf, rather than trying to move the stacks around while sticking all the tags on and taking the old ones off." 

 

"Mmm." Harlock hummed in thoughtful agreement, watching as the employee continued the arduous task of repricing the thousands of records in the store for a few more moments before pretending to go back to sorting through his own stack of albums. They each worked quietly for a few minutes before the employee spoke again, back to that quiet hesitancy. 

 

"I'm Logan, by the way." 

 

 _Logan. It suits him._  Harlock nodded in greeting and introduced himself. "Harlock." 

 

"Harlock." He seemed to be rolling the word around in his mouth, almost like he was tasting out the sound of it. "That's an interesting name." 

 

"No need to ask where it comes from, I have no idea." 

 

Logan smiled, tipping his head in acknowledgement. "Alright. Well, Harlock, what are you doing in a record store twice in one week without having bought anything?" 

 

Harlock started, widening eyes looking at Logan in shock. 

 

Logan smiled again, broadening into a grin. "We always write down the names of the customers in the books and I had to go through them this morning to take care of balancing the accounts and paying the bills. I know I would have noticed a name like 'Harlock' if it had been in there." 

 

Harlock looked down, trying to hide his face, wondering what it must look like. "Uhh. Well, I have some time off work for a couple of weeks and do not have much to do. I ended up wandering around town that day and stumbled across this place. It looked like a good place to kill time for a couple of hours, so I came in." 

 

"And you came back today." He wasn't asking. He was stating the obvious, but it came out sounding like he wanted to know more. 

 

"Yes. I... guess I found something kind of interesting in here and wanted to come back."  _It just wasn't a record_. 

 

"Something interesting, huh? I guess this place does have a few unique items that make it worth returning to even if you're not a big fan of records" Logan sounded like the thought had never occurred to him but that it made perfect sense once he thought about it for a minute. 

 

Harlock chuckled quietly to himself. "Yes, something like that." 

 

Logan smiled, less playfully and more cheerful this time, and went back to his task, seemingly out of things to say for the moment. Harlock felt a little disappointed, wanting to keep talking but not knowing what to say. He had never been good at small talk, at getting to know new people, at knowing the right kinds of questions to ask to get people to start talking about their lives. He always remembered the simple and dumb questions like, "what's your favorite food?" or, "where are you from?" or, "are you a cat or a dog person?" All those simple questions that could be answered in a couple of words and that were so hard to elaborate on unless the person was a naturally fast and easy talker, someone who liked the sound of their own voice and could ramble for whole paragraphs on insignificant and boring topics. Harlock liked meeting people like that because he could get away with answering a couple of questions here and there and then listening to the other person reply and prattle on with their own opinions until the sun went down, only needing to nod or smile in the appropriate places. If he had to meet new people and talk to them he would rather it be those kinds of people so that he didn't have to try so hard. The normal ones who talked for a bit and then wanted you to do the same were so much harder to get to know, mostly because they wanted to get to know you in turn, not just go on and on about themselves. 

 

So here he was, having become infatuated like a high school girl with a man who was one of those normal people who handled small talk and making friends like normal, not as an opportunity to spout their whole life-story, philosophy of the world, and every opinion they possessed. It was terribly frustrating. 

 

The silence stretched on and Logan finished on the shelf he had been at and shifted down the aisle to the next shelf, a little farther away from Harlock. He was nearly done with that one, the two of them having been silent for almost 30 minutes before Harlock thought of something to say. 

 

"So, Logan. Why did you choose to work at a record store? Do you have a thing for music or antiques?" 

 

Logan looked up, mild surprise on his face, like he hadn't expected Harlock to speak to him again. "Ah... No, nothing like that. I'm in school so I decided to get a part-time job to help pay the bills. One of the upperclassmen that I'm friends with suggested this place - she's friends with the owner, so she recommended me and helped me get hired. It was a lot easier than applying at a bunch of different places all over and waiting to see if they were interested. And the job isn't so bad. The boss is a little much sometimes, but since finishing training I mostly get left alone during my shifts. Roujin is usually in the back sorting through all the extra stuff and he knows enough to be able to answer most questions that I don't already know the answer to, so I never feel like like there's too much to handle. Especially since I only work weekdays while most people are at work, so it never gets busy. Like you said, it's a good place to kill a few hours and make some money in the process." 

 

"Hmm." Harlock thought it all over, not really having a ready response and cursing himself for it. He had come up with a good enough question to get more than a couple of words in response, but not one to spark a full-on conversation, it seemed. He knew he wasn't good at the small-talk thing, but this was just pathetic. 

 

"Uh, what about you? Where do you work?" Harlock looked over at Logan where he stared down at the stacks of records, hands resting on them and shifting back and forth. He wasn't actually doing anything at the moment, just staring at his hands and not looking up at Harlock. 

 

 _He almost looks... nervous._ The nervous tick and the move to continue the conversation had hope sparking in Harlock's chest, though he stubbornly pushed it down, knowing he was probably misreading the man. 

 

"I'm in the air force." 

 

"Oh! So you live on the base then." Suddenly, Logan looked up, an excited glint in his eyes at the revelation. "My school is actually near there, the community college. Do you know it?" 

 

"Yes, I know it. You're in college?" 

 

"Yeah, this is my last year; I graduate in May." 

 

"What are you studying?" 

 

At that question, Logan seemed to turn uncomfortable again, averting his eyes and turning an album around in his hands, over and over like a steering wheel. "Umm... floriculture. It's uh..." 

 

"Greenhouse, right? Working with plants in a greenhouse so you can garden all year, rather than relying on seasons and weather?" 

 

Logan looked surprised, but pleased that Harlock knew about what he was studying, if only the basics, his embarrassment fading. "Yeah, that's right. My parents had one when I was a kid. I always loved helping them with it, playing in the dirt and watching things grow. My brother wanted me to join him in the military but I couldn't do it. It wasn't me and it wouldn't have gone well." 

 

"You have a brother in the military?" 

 

"Ah, yeah. The air force, actually, like you. You may recognize his name, he's an officer. Ezra Isoyama." 

 

Harlock started, then glowered. "Yes, I know him. My experience with the man has hardly been pleasant, however. He finds for too much enjoyment in trying to control other people's lives." He realized how harsh that sounded and shook off his bitter tone. "I apologize, I should not have spoken of your family in such a way." 

 

Logan grinned in amusement. "Don't worry about it, I know first hand what you mean. My brother is rather opinionated and a control freak. He tries to make everyone do things his way and takes it as a personal offense if they don't, even if he has no authority over them." Logan looked at him curiously, eyes alight with questions. "It sounds like you had more than just a casual interaction with him though." 

 

"...Yes. He tried to have me expelled from the air force. He failed, but he certainly worked damn hard to succeed. He hates me so much that he requested a transfer afterward, though it didn't matter much since I was sent back to the states about a week later." Harlock had looked down during his short explanation and saw that his hands were shaking slightly. He tightened them into fists, trying to calm the anger running through him. The dumb thing was, he agreed with Ezra that the whole thing had been his own fault, but it was like the Command Chief had a personal vendetta against him. It was hard not to be angry when someone treated you like that, even if you deserved it. 

 

Logan had nodded in response, but otherwise stayed silent, not pressing for details even though eager curiosity was still written all over his face. Harlock was grateful, not wanting to talk about it despite his interest in the man. Some things you just don't share with strangers, even highly attractive ones. They went back again to their searching and sorting, Harlock willing himself to lose the tension he had racked up. 

 

Suddenly, a low rumbling reached Harlock's ears and he looked up with amusement to see Logan blushing furiously. 

 

"Hungry?" 

 

Logan chuckled, the pink in his cheeks, receding slightly when he wasn't made fun of. "Yeah, it's a little past my normal lunch break, but I was trying to finish this shelf first. I guess I should have just gotten food." 

 

Harlock smiled, unable to draw his eyes away from the flush dusting Logan's face. Then the man turned and looked Harlock right in the eye, a determined glint in his own, though, when he spoke, it was with shy uncertainty. 

 

"Would you like to join me? For lunch, I mean?" The flush had crept back over his face, even darker than before, although his hands were curiously still. 

 

Harlock was honestly surprised, his jaw going a little slack and his eyebrows rising slightly, not having expected an invitation. He stood staring silently for so long, trying to understand the question and formulate a response, that Logan's hopeful expression began to fall. 

 

"I mean, you don't have to if you don't like. It's just... there's place I know of a couple blocks from here with really good BBQ sandwiches, and I figured you would probably be getting lunch soon too, and I wouldn't mind the company so..." Logan's voice trailed off, the wavering in his voice getting stronger till he just cut himself off completely. 

 

Harlock, finally startled out of his shock, spoke quickly. "No, that actually sounds perfect. I'm feeling a little hungry, myself. So yes, that sounds... great." 

 

Logan's face relaxed into a hesitant smile. "Yeah? Well, just give me a minute to let Roujin know and grab my jacket and then we can go?" 

 

"Sounds good." Harlock watched as Logan grabbed hold of the cart, half-full of records, and pushed it into the back room, coming back out and sliding his arms into his leather coat. He came up Harlock's aisle and stopped a couple feet away. 

 

"You ready?" 

 

It was at that moment that the realization of what was going on hit Harlock, though the only outward tell was a quick blink and his face going blank for a moment. _Oh my god. This is really happening. I'm going out to lunch with him. Is this a date?_ Harlock shook his head once, as if expelling the thought.  _No, idiot, he has a girlfriend. You're just hanging out, making a friend, maybe. He just wants some company on his break, that's all_. He refused to get his hopes up, knowing that Logan, in all likelihood was taken and straight and was, at most, looking to make a new friend in Harlock, nothing more. If he was nervous it was probably just shyness and Harlock was letting his own desires color how he read the situation. He needed to stop hoping for too much and just be happy that he got to spend time with and get to know Logan a little more. He needed to change his expectations if he didn't want this to go badly. 

 

He looked at Logan as steadily as he could. "Lead the way." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who watch the Japanese dub of the film, you may have discerned that Logan and Ezra's last name is a combination of their names from that film. I watched the English dub so the names I know for these characters are all from there, so I figured I needed to include a reference to the original for those of you (most of you, I think) who know that one. It will most likely be the case that I will continue that practice for all of the characters.
> 
>  
> 
> And a disclaimer! There is an air force base in Nebraska, in Bellevue. And a community college just south of it. And a record store a few blocks away. The store does have a bunch of shelves on the inside and fliers all over the front windows (I discovered from pictures on their website) but other than that, I know nothing of the place. I am sure the owner is a wonderful person who has organized his store well with genre's and alphabetizing and everything. I am in no way trying to ream on someone's business. I just needed an excuse for Logan to be in the aisles for extended periods of time and I couldn't come up with a better reason. So that's it. I have no vendetta against the real record store that this fictional one is based off of, nor any facts about it in this fic besides its general appearance true. I just always like the fics where they root buildings and business in real-life locations. But I don't live anywhere near any air force bases so I did some hunting. And got creative. 
> 
> Well, I think I have been clear enough on that.


	3. Hope is a Cha-Cha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so I'm really bad at keeping promises about when things are going to be updated. I suppose I really just need to open this up every day and work on it a little at a time rather than trying to write each chapter all at once. Since it can take like half a day. If I write in chunks maybe I can get it done sooner. Here's to hoping. 
> 
> Anyway, here you go. I do not like this chapter, personally. I know I set out with making the two of them look like teenage girls with their first crush, but this is just ridiculous. So yeah. Not really a fan of this, it seems far too full of that nervous, jittery girl thing. Too much angsty teenage melodrama for two grown men. I don't know, though, sometimes I really like those stories - where everything is sappy and ridiculous like a cheesy rom-com. I suppose as long as all of you like it then it's fine. Its the reader's opinion that matter in this case since I chose to write this story specifically for you anyway. So... Enjoy. Hopefully.

_This is rather awkward._ Harlock and Logan had been walking for nearly two blocks already in complete and total silence. Logan had asked Harlock to join him for lunch at some place he knew of. Harlock had thought that meant there would be conversation but neither of them had said anything since leaving the record store. Harlock had no clue what he could say that would break the awkward tension around them and Logan didn't seem to either. He walked next to Harlock with his hands stuffed in his leather jacket and his eyes constantly flitting around. Harlock stared straight ahead, for the most part, sneaking glances every few hundred feet while he wracked his brain for something to say.  _Anything_. 

 

It wasn't working. Harlock began to settle with the idea that there would just be a lot of awkward silences over the next hour-and-a-half during lunch and the walk back to the record store.  _Well. At least I'm used to this, since this is how it has always gone when I have met new people_. The thing was, whenever the two of them had actually been talking, Harlock had felt strangely comfortable. Not exactly talkative - he still had to struggle to find something to say - but he didn't feel weird or dumb for sticking to the basics. Harlock supposed he had gotten spoiled by only having to speak to Tochiro or in work-related environments where the topics were fairly consistent and always and only about work. He hadn't had to "make conversation" with anyone he wasn't extremely close to in a long time. So he figured this was what he got for refusing to be social and never getting any practice at it. Now he had to suffer with his inability to talk just when he needed it most. 

 

They kept walking in silence and got to the restaurant having said nothing at all. The place was a bar, but one that opened around midday and served food as well as alcohol. Logan grabbed a couple menus from the barman and they found a booth against the wall near the front window. Harlock sat with his back to it unwilling to admit to himself that it was because he liked to see natural light shining on Logan's face. They sat awkwardly for a few minutes, fiddling with their menus and avoiding eye contact. Harlock couldn't stop feeling nervous long enough to actually focus on the words on the page. So when the waitress came by to take their order, he realized he had no idea what he wanted or even what was available. Logan spoke while still perusing his menu, not looking up till he was done speaking. 

 

"I've been here a few times before and I love the barbecue but I was wondering if there's anything else I should be trying? Do you have any recommendations?" 

 

The waitress, a tall and curvy blond, smirked. "God, Logan, you sound like a freakin tourist. Did you swallow a rich bastard politician with a delicate stomach or something? It's a bar. We have bar food." 

 

Logan's face had fell as soon as he had looked up at their waitress and now it turned red so fast Harlock thought it might have hurt. He seemed to be blushing a lot today. Harlock wondered if he was just easily embarrassed. Despite the obvious discomfort he was in, Logan responded to the waitress with an equal amount of teasing. 

 

"Kei. I didn't know you were working today - aren't you usually off on Fridays?"  

 

"Yeah, but Karla's man asked me to take over her shift for her. I guess he's got some big date planned today and couldn't get them changed for a different day. I figured, hell, I can use the extra cash. So, here I am."

 

"Well that's just fascinating."

  

"Awww. You're so cute when you try to be smart. Who's your friend?" 

 

Logan's blush had died down by this point, though he still looked vaguely embarrassed as well as a little irritated, but he turned to Harlock with a small smile. "Right. Harlock, this is Kei. Kei, this is Harlock. He's a customer from the shop and he agreed to keep me company for lunch. I honestly didn't know I'd be subjecting him to such suffering by bringing him here, though, so I apologize."

 

The last part was spoken to Harlock directly and he tried to smile back, although it felt weak on his face. It had been in the midst of Logan's introduction that Harlock finally took a good look at the waitress and realized she was the woman who had picked Logan up from the record store the other day.  _Shit. Now what do I do? How am I supposed to sit here while the two of them flirt with each other?_  

 

"Ha! I'm far more interesting of a person than you are, Logan." The waitress, Kei, turned to Harlock. "Anyway, sorry about this guy. It's cute how he tries to fit in with the big kids. He's alright though, I like to keep him around for my amusement. Did you know he's only been old enough to come in here for a couple of months? My cute little Logan." She reached over and ruffled Logan's hair, her mouth smirking and eyes twinkling. 

 

"Kei! You act like I'm some five-year-old kid! You're, what? Twenty-four? You're really not that much older than I am." 

 

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You're still adorable. Like a puppy. I gotta take care of you and sometimes that means I gotta rile you up. So anyway, are you guys actually gonna order anything or what?" 

 

"Well yeah, you're the one who keeps talking." Logan blinked and then turned to Harlock. "Ahh.... I, uh... haven't actually looked at the menu yet." He chuckled a little, an embarrassed sound. 

 

Harlock smiled uncertainly back. "Neither have I." 

 

The two of them sat there smiling shyly at each other for a few moments, Logan chuckling softly and Harlock not really sure if he should be saying anything else. Suddenly the waitress cleared her throat. Harlock looked up to see her looking and back and forth between the two of them, her eyes wide. 

 

"Well... Isn't this interesting! If this isn't an obvious case of the twitter-pated I don't know what is. I wonder if Julian knows about any of this yet, he'd be at the store every day to see this." 

 

 _What? Did she notice that I have a crush on him already? Shit. If she tells him I will not even be able to spend time with him anymore._  

 

"Kei!"

 

"Right. Right. I'll get out of the way of you and your new friend. I'll be at the counter, just holler when you're ready to order." With a wink, Kei turned and walked back to the bar counter. Harlock watched her go, noticing Logan shifting in his seat, feeling his own cheeks flushing slightly at her comment.  _Am I really that obvious?_

 

He sat starting down at the table, waiting for Logan to start the awkward I'm-really-not-into-guys talk, dreading having to come up with some excuse or explaining that he would stay away and leave Logan alone. He had partially been hoping he could at least stick around and maybe be friends with the guy, but now it would never happen. With his crush out in the open Logan would probably feel too awkward to want to stick around. He'd let Harlock off easy, it wasn't like he would be mean, but he'd still say something about wanting Harlock to keep his distance.

 

Eventually, Harlock worked up the nerve to look back at Logan who was looking up at Harlock through his eyelashes and smiling shyly. "Sorry. She's not afraid to speak her mind and sometimes that means she's going to subject you to verbal abuse and attempts at embarrassment." 

 

 _Well. That is not exactly how I thought this would start..._  Harlock felt a little taken aback. Maybe Logan wasn't actually upset? Although that seemed a little too good to be true. Or maybe he was just waiting to bring it up until later so they wouldn't have to endure another 30 minutes of awkward silence while they ate. "Well. She seems to be good at it." 

 

Logan huffed a laugh. "Yeah. She is at that. So, maybe we should actually read our menus and get some lunch?" 

 

"Perhaps, but I think I will just have whatever you suggest." 

 

Logan smiled at that and looked down at his menu. "In that case... how about the pulled pork burger?" 

 

"Mmm. That sounds fine." Harlock smiled, trying to look reassuring, although he was feeling plenty awkward himself, though now it was for a totally different reason than that of when they'd been walking over. _Has it really_ _been only ten minutes?_ Harlock felt like that walk over was forever ago. The waitress's unashamed comment about Harlock's crush had drained him of all energy and now he just felt tired. What would Logan do about it? He seemed okay with finishing lunch together, but he had to be feeling uncomfortable knowing the customer you had just wanted to have as company actually had a crush on you and it was so obvious that his girlfriend noticed it within two minutes.  _This is unbearably awkward; the walk over here was nothing compared to this._  

 

Harlock resolutely stared at his menu, pretending to look at the dessert section. Logan got up right away walked over to the counter to tell Kei their order. She nodded and relayed it to the cook and then went back to cleaning glasses. Instead of coming back to the booth, Logan stayed leaning against the counter and talking with the waitress. They chatted for a couple of minutes,  though mostly it looked like Kei was laughing at whatever Logan was saying - a story, maybe? Or explaining that she had nothing to worry about, that Harlock was just a customer and besides, he's not interested in men? 

 

_I thought you had chosen not to care, Harlock? I thought you were not expecting anything? So why am I so bothered by this still?_

 

Harlock closed his eyes and pushed his fingertips to his lids, pressing in and trying relieve the headache he felt coming on. He was too old to be getting so caught up on one straight guy and to remain so interested, even still, even when there was every reason to just move on. It was getting to be a serious problem. 

 

 _I will just tell him that she was wrong, make it clear that she is reading into things and then I'll leave after lunch and I won't come back. That will be the end of it._  

 

Harlock looked up just as Logan turned away from the counter with a basket of food in each hand. He set them down on the table, sliding one in front of Harlock while he slid himself into his side of the booth. "Sorry. She had a question for me and then we got to talking. By the time I realized, the food was almost done so I just stayed there." 

 

Harlock shook his head. "No worries, I understand. No reason for you to sit and talk to a stranger when your girlfriend is here." 

 

Logan blinked, looking surprised. "My girl...? You mean Kei? Oh, we're not together, she's just a friend. She's actually the upperclassmen I mentioned, the one that helped me get my job at the record store? But we're not... she's not..." 

 

"Oh..." 

 

"Yeah." 

 

"So... not your girlfriend?" Harlock asked hesitantly, needing to hear it again just to be sure. He felt hope flare in him again but tried not to let it get too big. She might not be his girlfriend, but they seemed to know each other well.  _Well enough to be teasing each other_. So maybe they were interested but hadn't started dating yet? 

 

Logan chuckled. "No. Definitely not." 

 

"'Definitely not?'" Harlock's eyebrows raised, surprised by the forcefulness of the statement. He watched Logan carefully and saw him flush slightly, which made him instantly curious. 'Definitely not' didn't sound like interested-but-haven't-made-a-move-yet. It sounded much more like romance was a line that was never going to be crossed. Harlock waited expectantly, curiously, maybe a little excitedly. 

 

"Ah. No. I don't actually... like girls... like that." Logan's face was beet red by this time and he looked terribly nervous. "I'm sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. I promise I wasn't trying anything with you. I just wanted the company." 

 

Harlock felt like the hope in his chest was doing a cha-cha rising and falling and rising and falling and now stalling. "Oh. Right." What was he supposed to think now? So, Logan was gay but not interested in Harlock at all? That's what it seemed like. At Logan's first words, Harlock had felt nervous excitement flare through him, but by the time the knowledge that Logan liked men had settled in his head he was crushing the hope flat again by saying he wasnt interested. If anything, that only made it worse. When he had thought Logan wasn't interested in men it had made him feel a little better since there was no reason why he would be interested. But now Logan's simple friendliness was just that. Purely platonic friendliness. Harlock felt a little like growling in frustration. He had almost thought he was getting somewhere, like he had a chance with this guy, but it was looking like that wasn't the case.

 

 _Well. I guess I will simply have to make it through lunch, be polite and friendly and then take my leave. There is no reason to go back now._ Harlock looked down at the table, not looking Logan in the eye or bothering with trying to smile; he knew it would look fake. "Well, it does not bother me. I'm not strictly straight either, so even if you were trying for something it would not disgust me." He wasn't used to sharing such things but he wanted to make it clear to Logan that there was nothing about Logan that bothered him. He wanted the guy to feel safe, comfortable, even if he wasn't interested. 

 

"Oh? Oh. You mean you're... bi?" 

 

_What is with this conversation?_

 

"Um, yes. I am. Is that strange?" Weird as it sounded, Harlock knew there were some people who found it stranger to be interested in people of both genders rather than just one, even if it was the same as your own. People could be weird like that. It didn't make much sense to him but he'd been reamed for it in high school, for swinging both ways. 

 

Logan seemed genuinely taken aback by the question, confused and surprised equally. "What? No. Why would that be strange?" 

 

"I don't know, but many people I know think it is." 

 

"Well they're weirder for thinking that. What kind of people have you met that think that?" Logan sounded affronted, offended by the idea that someone could think such things. 

 

Harlock smiled a little. "Just some old classmates from back in high school. It was a long time ago. You know how teenagers can be, mocking anything and everything, so long as they see it as different."

 

"Yeah, but it's dumb. People should be able to like who they like without being made fun of for it. Even if you think it's wrong or weird, fine, have that opinion. Heck, someone can even tell me they think it's a sin and I'm going to burn in Hell for eternity. But they don't need to mock me for it. That's just cruel." Logan's brows had furrowed and his voice got low and rough with anger. He stabbed his french fries forcefully into his ketchup.

 

Harlock felt warmth bloom under his sternum, unable to repress the thought that Logan's outburst was more than just general anger with homophobes and was a personal insult on behalf of Harlock. Like Logan was indignant specifically over someone having said such things to Harlock himself. He knew it probably wasn't the case. They had just met, there was no reason for the man to feel anything like that about him, although Harlock knew that's how he would feel if something similar had happened to Logan. Then again, Harlock had been known to develop a strong sense of protectiveness over people once he had decided he wanted them around. Old flings didn't count since he hadn't chosen them. But with Melody, even though it had taken a long time for him to trust her completely and open up to her, he had decided almost from day one that he liked her and wanted her to stick around. He had turned into an overprotective big brother within in the week, defending her and supporting her without fail.

 

Harlock was like that though, not usually very trusting but very trustworthy. "Hmm. I suppose. I haven't thought about it much in a long time, haven't really had a reason to talk about anyone's opinion on my sexuality." 

 

Logan chuckled. "Yeah, I suppose this isn't exactly a normal conversation, especially between strangers. Sorry." 

 

"No, it's alright, I'm not upset. It's just not something I'm used to." 

 

"Mmm. Thanks." 

 

Harlock smiled and the two of them went back to their food in silence for a couple minutes. Harlock found himself wrestling in his brain, trying to decide if he should ask the question that was on his mind. _So he's not with Kei, but that doesn't mean he isn't dating someone else. He's certainly attractive enough, there's no reason for him not to be with someone_. 

 

"You look like there's something on your mind." 

 

"What?" Harlock's head whipped up in surprise. 

 

"Well, it's just that you've been glaring at your sandwich for the past two minutes like it holds the answers to the universe but it won't tell you anything. You must be thinking pretty hard about something." 

 

Harlock huffed a laugh, scrubbing his hand over his forehead before resting his cheek in his palm and looking at Logan. "Yes. Trying to decide what constitutes small talk and what is moving too far into the realm of personal information that I have no right to know." 

 

Logan continued eating his food calmly, eyes flickering around as he thought while chewing. He spoke again after swallowing, slowly and thoughtfully. "Well there's only a few things I find too personal to talk about and if you somehow manage to stumble upon that inadvertently I won't get mad, I just won't answer." He didn't sound upset, just matter-of-fact with a touch of wryness. 

 

"Oh. Alright. Well, you are gay so you and Kei are not together... So... do you have a boyfriend?" 

 

"A- No. No, I don't. I, uh... No." 

 

Logan seemed to be at a loss for words, stumbling and awkward.  _Is he embarrassed? Why?_ Harlock was a little confused since he had said he was an open book, but mostly he just felt relieved.  _Okay, so he may not be interested but he is not already with someone. Maybe..._ As much as he wished he could stop getting so excited over every little thing, as exhausting as it was to keep going back and forth with hope and hopelessness, Harlock was feeling positive now. He had a chance, at least, for Logan to become interested. He might not be right now, but that didn't mean he couldn't be. They had just met and it's not like people got interested instantly. Harlock was living proof of that, with this instance being the only time he had ever really been interested in anyone at all, let alone so quickly. He couldn't be upset that Logan wasn't. 

 

"Mmm. That's... good... Not that you are alone, I mean. That is not good. Unless you enjoy being single, in which case it would be... I am going to stop talking because everything keeps coming out wrong." Harlock slammed his mouth closed forcefully and looked down at the table, ashamed of the way he kept stumbling over his words.  _I sound like an idiot_. He sat fuming internally, angry at himself and waiting to be laughed at or told off, flinching when he heard Logan start chuckling a few moments later.  _  
_

 

"We both seem to be having problems talking today. I keep thinking to myself,  _Logan, you sound like an idiot. How hard is it to just_   _talk?_ I keep stuttering and fumbling for words and I can't think of anything to talk about. Are you having the same problem?"   


 

Harlock turned shocked eyes to Logan's, which were shining with humor but no mockery. Just gentle amusement at their state. 

 

"Ahh. Yes, I am. I do not speak to people outside of work much. At least not anyone I do not already know, and I have never been good with small talk." 

 

"Yeah, me neither. I guess we're just going to have to go about this a little differently than normal people since neither of us knows how to meet people like everyone else does. I mean, if you want to. I thought, maybe, we could get to know each other? I don't have many friends and I thought that since you're spending a lot of free time in a record store you might not really have anyone to hang out with either. Am I assuming too much?" Logan looked at Harlock with a touch of worry. 

 

Harlock chuckled to himself quietly. "No, you assume right. I have never had many friends and the only one I _do_ have currently lives in a different state. So, no, I do not have anyone to spend my free time with." 

 

"You haven't made any friends on the base?" 

 

"Ahh. No. I, uhh, have only been here a few days and I am not staying in the barracks so I have yet to really met anyone. Honestly, I hadn't really planned on meeting anyone other than coworkers. I am not sure how long I will be here so I was not planning on bothering with it." 

 

"How come?" 

 

"How come what? I do not know how long I will be here?" 

 

"No. I suppose I was more curious as to why you wouldn't want to make any friends just because you won't be around very long. Sure, they might not have the time to become super important to you, but someone might. And even if none of them ever become great friends, you'll at least have some people to spend time with, to have some fun with in your free time." 

 

"I suppose, but I am not the type of person to expel energy when it is unnecessary. That includes going through the new-people routine over and over again every time I go to a new location when I know I am going to be leaving again soon. It seems rather pointless." Harlock knew some people were okay with making lots of shallow and relatively meaningless friends, ones that had little impact on their lives, but it just wasn't for him. He would rather just have one or two friends that knew everything there was to know about him, who were there when he needed them, and loved him unconditionally. He didn't need people to just waste a few hours with every week, especially when he'd rather be in his room reading. 

 

"Mmm. I guess I can't really tell you what choices to make. Especially when I'm kind of the same way. Kei is really my only friend. I mean, I see Julian a lot and sometimes I'll go out for dinner with the guys from work or from my classes sometimes. But I don't really have anyone else." 

 

"What about your brother? Are you close with him? Or any of your other siblings?" 

 

"Ezra? No. We've never really gotten along. And... well I screwed up majorly a few years back and he's never forgiven me for it. I don't really blame him, though. Actually, I don't think we've spoken since I turned down his offer to join the air force. He wanted my help as repayment for my mistake, you know, to make it up to him. Part of me thought I should, but I knew I'd probably end up screwed over. And it wasn't really something that I wanted to do. I never would've been happy that way, which I think was Ezra's goal. I didn't deserve to be happy after what I'd done." Logan's tone was sad and bitter. Harlock wondered what had happened to make him so unhappy remembering it, even now years later, but he didn't think it was any of his business to ask about. 

 

"So... why didn't you? If you thought it was something you should do, that you deserved to be unhappy, why didn't you join the air force like your brother wanted?" 

 

"Because it's my life and it was my screwup. I need to find my own way to make up for it, not rely on my brother for redemption." 

 

"Redemption?" 

 

"Yeah. Kind of a weird word, I guess. That's how I think about it though. I need to redeem myself, show that I'm not the horrible person I was as well as pay for my mistake. I think... Ezra just wanted me to suffer, he wanted to punish me. He knew military life would make me miserable and used the 'service to your country' schtick to cover up his selfish reasons. I didn't want that. I don't think it would have meant anything that way, because I would have gone into it thinking that if I just forced myself to live an unhappy life that would be enough. But there's more to it than that. My mistake hurt people, so now I need to help people. The military only helps some people, it's biased toward its own country, and I'd rather just live a normal life and be generous and kind, helping people in little ways whenever I can. I think that's a much better way to redeem myself than bombing people." 

 

"Hmm. I think... you may be right. I have spent a long time flying planes and I love it, but I have also seen a lot of people die and I am getting tired of it. Sometimes I think I never should have joined the air force, but I was young and I wanted to fly something besides a 747. I still do, but there has to be other options that do not involve hurting people or transporting them across the globe. There has to be something better." Harlock had never really stopped to think about something like this until recently.  _Until Melody_. But the last few months, especially being injured and stuck in a bed a lot, had been spent thinking about what he had done with his life and why. He had decided he didn't like what he was doing anymore. He wanted something else, something... more. He just didn't know what. 

 

"It seems we've got a few similarities." Logan was smiling gently now, staring at his food while he moved it around with a french fry. "Both of us unhappy with no idea what to do about it." 

 

"But I thought you are happy? You chose not to join the air force and went to college instead because that was what you wanted." Harlock was a little confused, wanting to understand this man. He seemed to have a lot more depth, seemed to think a lot about things, more than anyone else Harlock had met. 

 

"Well, I thought it would. And I do love it, I love taking care of the greenhouses and plants and watching them grow. And I love helping people when I can. But..." He drifted off, staring unseeingly. 

 

"But...?" 

 

Logan looked up, smiling sadly and Harlock thought he felt his heart ache a little. He should never look like that; Harlock never wanted to see that expression again.

 

"I guess I'm just lonely." 

 

And now Harlock was certain his chest was hurting, partially because he didn't like seeing Logan look so sad, but also because he understood. He understood far too well what it was like to be lonely.  

 

"I wasn't exaggerating when I said I don't really have any friends. Just Kei. And she's great, really, but one person can't be enough. One person can't be there for you 24/7 regardless of what they might wish and promise. And I don't think one person can ever be everything you need from people anyway. We need different people, different relationships, for different things. Kei can only be so much and all of the other slots are kind of empty for me right now. So, yeah. I'm kind of lonely a lot." 

 

"I'm sorry. I feel lonely at times as well. It's not... fun." 

 

"No, it's really not." Logan smiled wanly for a moment, finally looking up at Harlock again, before chuckling softly. "I think we're doing this friendship thing kind of backwards. The heartfelt conversations are supposed to come  _after_ we know each other's favorite color and home town and how we take our coffee." 

 

Harlock laughed, hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Yes, I suppose we are. I have never really done things the normal way anyway, so I'm alright with it. Thank you for being honest with me despite hardly knowing each other. I promise I will never share this with anyone without your permission." 

 

"Well, even if you did, I highly doubt you know anyone who knows me anyway, so it wouldn't really matter. But thank you. And thanks for being so honest with me too. It's not every day I dump all of my gloomy thoughts on someone and they handle it as well as you are." 

 

"Well it helps that everything you have said reminds me of my own life. But, you are welcome." 

 

The two of them smiled at each other warmly, Harlock feeling far more content than he had in awhile, grateful for the company and for the warmth and understanding he had found in this man. Logan had said he wanted to get to know each other better, become friends. Maybe that's all it would ever be, but if their friendship involved conversations like the one they had just had, maybe it would be enough. Harlock thought he could be happy with that. Asking for more was just selfish. 

 

Logan cleared his throat after a moment, the gentle moment broken and a touch of awkwardness returning. "Well. Should we pay for this and head back to the store?" 

 

"Yes. Yes, that sounds good." 

 

The two of them cleaned the table up, piling all their trash in the two baskets and dropping a few bills on the table. Logan waved at Kei and the other barman on their way out but didn't stop to talk. A few moments later and they were back out in the sunshine and Logan turned his face up to look at the sky. Harlock watched Logan, watching the sun highlight his cheekbones and turn his hair reddish brown.

 

Logan spoke without turning his eyes away from the massive blue expanse above them. "Well. Should we go?" 

 

Harlock nodded.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I refuse to make future promises about next-chapter releases. In the words of an irritated dad on a road trip (that I am hearing in my own head as Mr. Incredible from The Incredibles) - "You'll get it when you get it!"


	4. Awkward Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my internship ended up being a little busier than I had originally thought it might be and my supervisor gave me far more reading than I had counted on so I think I'm going to try posting every month. Hopefully within 30 days, but this one obviously went a little past that. I figure since the chapters are longer I'm justified. 
> 
> Now, if I get a chapter done early then it will get posted early and the post date for the next chapter will get moved forward as well. So if you're following this religiously, cross your fingers and pray to whatever deity you love (if any) that I'm motivated to write and get good ideas. 
> 
> I came across a quote a few months ago from Louis L'Amour that goes like this: "Start writing, no matter what. The water does not flow until the faucet is on." It is so true when it comes to my own writing. I have vague ideas but since I have nothing concrete I don't sit down to write. But as soon as I do I get one sentence down and the rest usually just starts coming. It's cliche, but the story kind of writes itself, although I definitely hit blocks. Part of me would love to be a professional writer but I don't know if I could do it - I hate not knowing what I'm going to write before I do (even though it is pretty cool to just see the stuff end up on paper/screen despite me not having any clues about what to write when I sat down to start). 
> 
> So that is just a little explanation as to why I am so inconsistent with posting. But comments motivate me! So comment away!

Logan couldn't remember his head ever feeling like such a chaotic mess before now. Sure, he had been confused, worried, whatever, plenty of times before, but not like this. Even when Ezra had been pushing him to join the Air Force and Logan spent three weeks tossing and turning in bed at night and going for jogs for hours and hours every day to try and clear his head, he had never felt like this. During that time he had just had too much to think about, had pros and cons to weigh and was examining the situation from every angle, trying to understand his own guilt and understand why the idea of following Ezra's advice just didn't sound right. It took him nearly a month to sort it all out and even then he didn't feel like he understood it well enough to articulate it. Logan just knew that wasn't what he should do so he didn't; he found his own way to seek redemption. 

 

Which is how he had ended up in Nebraska enrolled in a college in Bellevue and working toward his bachelor's degree. It wasn't exactly the most exciting lifestyle but it suited him fine. Or, at least it had. He had his best friend, Kei, he had a group of casual friends, some from work and others who were classmates. They hung out sometimes, maybe grabbing dinner or drinking, occasionally hanging out in someone's room and playing video games or watching a movie. Nothing special and conversation was never serious but that's what Kei was for. Those friends were just people to hang out with, to waste free time with when Logan wasn't at work or finishing up assignments that he couldn't do during his lunch breaks or weekly trip to the library. He enjoyed his classes and learning more about the work his parents loved so much. Liked his professors, liked his job. His life was typical and normal and not exciting but he had been content with it. Until some tall, handsome guy with shaggy hair falling in his eyes and a leather jacket had sauntered into the record store and stolen his attention for the remainder of his shift. 

 

The guy, who Logan now knew was named Harlock, had arrived in the early afternoon, the middle of the week. Just marched through the door and headed to the left side of the store, methodically going through each shelf and reading the titles of all the vinyls. His long but strong limbs bespoke a man who liked to stay fit and his clothes were clean and taken care of, but worn, like they'd been owned for a long while. His dark brown hair looked soft and shimmered with copper highlights in the sun, covering his ears and eyes. The strangersurrepti's face was angular and elegant with smooth, pale skin and long eyelashes. Logan found himself staring, unable to look away from the man. He was beautiful. Strong and dangerous looking, especially once he had seen the scar stretched across his nose and cheek and the edge of an eyepatch peeking out from underneath his hair, but still beautiful. 

 

Logan finally managed to tear his eyes away from the guy and get back to work for a bit, though he kept surreptitiously glancing up to watch him, which was how he had noticed the man standing there with his head bowed and hands clenching on the stack of records in front of him. Worried something was wrong, Logan had hurried over but it had been nothing more than a headache. He had wanted to try and talk to the guy but he didn't want to bother him when he was already in pain and Logan had never felt adept when it came to making small-talk with strangers. Rather than embarrass himself he had just gone back to work, leaving without a word when Kei had shown up to bring him back to his dorm. 

 

He had hoped to see him there the next day, maybe get another chance to talk to him, but no such luck. Logan had worked all morning and into the early afternoon without the mysterious stranger ever arriving. Logan had tried to tell himself that maybe his shift had just ended too early, that if he didn't have class to go to he might have gotten to see the guy later. After all, he had come in during the afternoon the day before, so maybe Logan had just left too early.

 

He had spent the following morning trying to quell any excitement and hope that since he would be working all day he would get another chance. He didn't know why he thought the guy would come by so frequently; most people came in and got what they wanted and left or browsed for a bit to kill some time and never came by again. He supposed it had something to do with how focused and almost finicky he was about looking at each and every record in all the stacks, but Logan felt like the guy was going to keep coming until he had seen the whole store. 

 

Logan's heart had started pounding, loud and echoing in his ears when he had seen the man standing outside the store when he showed up for his shift. He'd known that the man was attractive enough to have captured his attention but his anticipation at actually seeing him again had shocked Logan. He wasn't sure how he had actually managed to talk to the guy, let alone kept the shaking out of his voice. He'd known that he'd ended up rambling and sharing more than he meant to, partially out of nervousness but mostly just because he wanted to know more about the guy and felt he had a better chance if he opened up about himself. It was probably dumb, but he couldn't stop it. Somehow he'd thought of something to strike up an actual conversation later in the day, but inviting him to lunch had been a complete and total risk, one Logan was sure he wouldn't have taken if he'd been able to think straight. But his palms had been sweating and his pulse racing for hours, nervous adrenaline flowing through his body and scrambling his brain. Somehow, rather than fight or flight he had ended up jumping at the chance, however slim, that Harlock would agree to keep him company over lunch. 

 

His relief at Harlock saying yes and been so great he'd had to fight to keep from shouting or cheering. Acting relatively calm and collected was a chore and Logan had been exhausted by the time they started walking to the bar which had made it even harder to think, which was why he stayed silent the whole time. He knew if he opened his mouth he would just end up sounding like a total moron so he waited, hoping Harlock would have something to say, but the man had remained silent. Logan figured he was just a quiet kind of guy, had thought that pretty early on and had been rather surprised at how open and honest the man had been with him, despite the personal questions. 

 

Of course, none of their early conversations compared to what they talked about while eating at the bar. Logan had been absolutely mortified when Kei called him out on his stupid crush on a stranger, on a customer even, and right in front of the guy! He had scrabbled for anything he could say to mitigate the damage, to make it clear that he wasn't expecting anything, just wanted to be friends. He didn't even know if Harlock was into men, and even if he was there was no reason for him to be interested in some kid who hadn't even finished college. Logan didn't know how old Harlock was, but he looked to be a few years older, probably even a couple years older than Kei. It wasn't likely that he would want anything to do with Logan who was still called a kid half the time and could still pass as a teenager. He'd still probably be getting carded at the bars when he was 40 with his face. 

 

So knowing all of that, Logan had wanted Harlock to know that even though he was gay he just wanted to be friends. He hoped that maybe something would happen later, maybe Harlock would end up interested in time, but Logan was content just getting to know the guy. He was interesting and Logan liked peeling back the layers that he was certain almost no one had ever gotten to see underneath. He could tell that Harlock was telling more about himself than he was used to doing, even before he had said he only really had one friend. Logan could just tell. It was nice, though, knowing that Harlock was willing to open up to him, that he trusted Logan enough to share those kinds of things with him even though they were practically strangers. If it kept up, they would probably become good friends, great friends, maybe something that would last a long time, even if nothing ever happened in the romantic department. Logan was actually rather okay with that, though he knew he would always wish for more. He could learn to be content with that much, though, if it was all he ever got. 

 

Of course, he hadn't known all of that when Kei had shown up at the table since those conversations happened while the ate. Logan had gone up to the counter to give Kei their order, but mostly he went so he could tell her to back off. He had told her that he thought Harlock was attractive but had no reason to think he was interested in guys; Logan had just had a panicked and desperate moment and asked the guy to keep him company over lunch. He told her he had honestly been completely surprised that Harlock had agreed, having expected to be politely turned down. 

 

Kei had just looked at him, smirking and her eyes glinting mischievously. 

 

"What?" Logan asked. 

 

"Oh, nothing. I just think it's cute when you're oblivious. Endearing really, it's why I keep you around. For entertainment and 'daww' moments." 

 

"What the hell does that mean?" 

 

Kei just smirked bigger. "You'll figure it out eventually. Let me know when you do." 

 

"Figure what out? Kei, you're not making any sense. Stop being so cryptic." 

 

She chuckled. "You know me, mystery and vague prophetic messages are my thing. I'm like Gandalf." 

 

Harlock scowled. "Yeah, but I'm pretty sure Gandalf had purer intentions than you've ever had." 

 

Kei threw her head back and guffawed. "Yeah, you're probably right. I just like to see you squirm." 

 

Logan grunted, still glaring down at the countertop, flustered and agitated. Kei had been his best friend and like a big sister for years, but that also meant she treated him like a little brother more often than not, which meant relentless teasing and mockery. Sometimes it amounted to little more than playful banter, but sometimes Kei's fun and enjoyment on behalf of his distress bordered on mean. This instance was somewhere in the middle, where it pissed Logan off but wasn't really cruel or anything. She just drug it out more than he would've liked. He wished she would show a little more sympathy and be a bit more helpful with the situation but he knew it wasn't likely.

 

Kei stuck her neck out for him and had his back when he needed it, but she would never let an opportunity for teasing pass by and this was a prime cut by her standards. He'd just have to deal until she got bored when it became clear that nothing was going to happen. Unfortunately she was tenacious and optimistic so it could be awhile. Logan had just sighed and let the anger bleed out of him slowly, accepting his fate. The two of them had chatted for a bit longer while he waited for the food to get finished up and then he had returned to the table where he and Harlock ended up having some interesting and far more personal conversations than Logan had planned on. The more they talked, though, the calmer Logan felt and the easier it was to open up. He wasn't really sure why, he just felt like Harlock could be trusted and that he was more likely to understand what went on in Logan's head than anyone else did. 

 

Kei was great, but the two of them were so drastically different that they had a hard time understanding each other's ways of thinking and feeling most of the time, at least when it came to the important stuff. They knew how and the basic reasons why they acted and felt the way the did, but they didn't really understand it, couldn't empathize with it because neither of them would have ever reacted the same way to similar situations. So as much as Logan loved Kei and appreciated and needed her friendship, sometimes it wasn't enough simply because he wanted to talk to someone who understood, who felt and thought the same way he did. And he really couldn't explain why he thought so, but Logan was getting more and more certain that Harlock could be that person for him. So far their conversations had only revealed a small number of similarities but they were significant ones, ones that said a lot about how their minds and hearts worked. 

 

So here they were, walking back to the record store for the second half of Logan's shift, a foot or so of space between them, a far closer distance than what it had been on the way to the bar. Harlock's hands were stuffed in the pockets of his jeans and Logan kept sneaking glances over at him, taking in the way his jacket fit snugly around his broad shoulders and slid down his slim waist. The denim of his jeans wrapped around Harlock's long legs perfectly, revealing the strong muscle underneath without being stretched tight. The fabric around his ankles was bunched up inside his leather boots which were tied loosely, the sides hanging open and laces only tied part of the way up. 

 

Logan started suddenly, realizing Harlock and he were dressed virtually identically. Slim jeans, leather boots, leather jackets, dark t-shirts. Logan seemed to prefer light-wash jeans rather than the dark blue that the older man wore, though, and Logan kept his hair shorter, but the two of them bore a striking resemblance. Logan chuckled, thinking people probably thought they were brothers. Harlock turned to look at him curiously, his visible eyebrow quirked. 

 

Logan chuckled again. "Nothing, it's just. We're dressed almost exactly the same. I don't think I've ever come across someone who dresses so similarly to me." 

 

Harlock looked at him blankly for a moment then swung his eyes up and down Logan's frame and turned down to look at his own clothing. He started laughing softly to himself. "I have not either. I always thought I had a rather unique style - perhaps... punk rock but not enough to fit in with the groupies. I guess I am not the only one anymore, though." 

 

Logan grinned. "Guess not. All I need is an eyepatch and a badass scar." He'd gotten caught up in the joking, speaking before he realized what he was saying. Logan's eyes widened and he looked at Harlock, worried he had brought up something better left unsaid. 

 

Harlock just smiled, chuckling some more. "And grow your hair out a little. If you could lower your voice we could trade places for the day and see how many people we could fool." 

 

Logan let out a breath, relieved that he hand't offended the man. Some people didn't like their scars being mentioned, it drug up bad memories. Or sometimes they just didn't like their flaws being pointed out, how they looked different from everyone else. He was glad Harlock wasn't that kind of a person. You always had to tiptoe around any kind of conversations about their past, never knowing what would set them off and make them angry. Sometimes the most casual and innocent comment would get flung back in your face and you'd end up accused of who-knows-what kind of cruelty or prejudice. 

 

"I think it would probably fall apart when you sat down to take a quiz on the proper care for tropical flowers."  

 

Harlock turned to Logan with a grin. "Or when you had to report for flight simulation practice."

 

"Yeah, I suppose those aren't exactly things you can learn in a weekend." 

 

The two of them continued walking, smiling and chuckling to themselves and Logan felt some of the tension in his chest ease. His emotions had been jumping back-and-forth for days, mostly anxiousness, nerves, and excitement, but now he felt himself calm. Harlock was fun, easy to talk to, didn't get upset easily. He was a nice guy to spend an afternoon chatting with whether it be serious conversations or just joking around. And the ease with which they switched from one to the other was good, was refreshing. It was like they were already completely comfortable around each other. It wasn't exactly true, at least not on Logan's part since he was still struggling to rid himself of this pointless crush so he still had some twitchy giddiness to deal with, but he didn't feel pressured or awkward. He could be himself, even including all the dumb stuff that came out when he couldn't think clearly. Harlock hadn't berated him or gotten angry about any of it, even some of the more invasive or blunt comments and questions. 

 

Logan decided that if there was anyone worth spending the effort to get to know, to hope for something  _more_ with, it might just be Harlock and he wanted to try. He wouldn't push for more than the man was willing to give, but there was no harm in asking, in trying. Logan wanted to know Harlock better, was curious about him and actually wanted to ask him questions about his life, to be a bit more inquisitive and outgoing than he normally was. If he took it too far, got too personal or ticked the older man off, well, he would deal with that kind of thing if it happened. For now, though, he just wanted to work on being friends and hope that Harlock would end up wanting more than that as well. 

 

"So, what's your family like? If you don't mind my asking." 

 

Harlock shot a quick glance over at Logan, but his face was passive, not revealing what he thought of the question. He remained silent for a minute and Logan began to wonder if Harlock was going to take his suggestion and just not talk. But the older man started speaking quietly after a long pause. 

 

"My father was a pilot, as am I, however he was never in the military; only flew passenger planes. My mother played the piano, coming from a whole family of musicians, mostly pianists." 

 

 _I guess that's where the long and elegant fingers come from_ Logan thought to himself. 

 

"No siblings, only myself. My parents wanted to raise a child but with my father's inconsistent schedule because of international flights and my mother's long practicing hours and trips for shows and concerts, they felt that they would not be able to handle more than one. They were likely correct, as I still spent many nights sleeping over at friends' houses and the occasional long weekend with the neighbors if they both happened to be traveling. Sometimes my mother would allow me to accompany her to less formal events, especially if she were only there to observe and it were relatively close to our home town. Perhaps a couple of events each year and typically over Christmas break when there was no schoolwork to worry about." 

 

"It doesn't sound like they were home very much." 

 

"No, they were not. but when they were, they were wonderful. Loving but firm, unafraid to discipline me and ensure that I understood morality and respect and right versus wrong. They expected me to treat people well and to work hard at everything I did. They were good parents and I learned a lot from them, even if I rarely spent long periods of time with them." 

 

"It sounds like you had a good childhood." Logan let his voice trail off at the end, leaving it open for Harlock to continue if he wanted or just agree. 

 

"I did." 

 

"So where are your parents now?" 

 

"They died when I was in high school. Car accident." He said softly and matter-of-factly, like it didn't pain him anymore, but his face looked tight and his shoulder's seemed more rigid than they had been a moment earlier. 

 

"Oh. I'm sorry. That must have been difficult." 

 

Harlock hummed a noncommittally but otherwise stayed silent. They continued walking like that for a minute or two while Logan debated whether he should say what was on his mind. He finally decided with how honest the two of them had already been this bit of information wasn't so bad. 

 

"My parents... they're dead too. I was really young, Ezra had just finished high school, thankfully, so he got a job and managed to take care of me okay." Logan didn't like thinking about those painful days, that overwhelming sorrow that had plagued him for weeks after their death, but he at least felt like Harlock should know that Logan understood a little bit what it was like to lose your parents when you were so young. Their experiences were different, the circumstances not the same, but both had been left behind far too early. Logan was comforted by the thought, however slightly. 

 

"How did they die, if I may ask?" 

 

Logan startled out of his thoughts at Harlock's voice and looked over. He knew he must look ridiculous, eyes wide and shocked like a deer caught in headlights. Harlock was smiling at him expectantly but gently, until he saw the expression on Logan's face. The smile slipped away and his eyes became concerned. 

 

"Oh. I'm sorry, I guess you don't want to talk about it." 

 

Logan wished he could shake his head furiously and apologize, wished he could explain and tell his new friend the story. But he couldn't. It was not something he talked about with anyone. Instead, he turned away, face forward and toward the ground, unable to look Harlock in the eye. "It's just... I want to tell you. Just... not yet. Not now." He was worried Harlock would be upset with him after Logan had been the one saying he wanted to get to know each other, to be honest. He knew he had already said that if Harlock asked him something too personal he just wouldn't answer, but it seemed unfair for the older man to share what had happened with his family but not Logan, especially since he had brought up his parents' death in the first place. He didn't want the man to be angry with him, but he just couldn't bring himself to share  _that._ Not that. 

 

Suddenly Harlock stopped walking and reached out to touch Logan's arm, stopping him as well. Harlock had turned sideways to look at the younger man, but Logan stared forward resolutely unable to meet his eyes. They stood on the sidewalk, neither saying anything for a long moment.  "Logan." His voice was so gentle, a slight upturn in the tone at the end of the softly-spoken name. 

 

Logan slowly looked up, eyes hesitant as he turned to face Harlock. 

 

"You do not have to tell me anything you do not wish to. Did you not say that if I asked something too personal you would simply keep silent on the matter? I asked something too personal for you to talk about, and that is all. I'm not going to press you for answers." 

 

Logan nodded, some of the tension leaking out of his body. 

 

Harlock dropped his hand from where it had been resting on Logan's arm and spoke with a touch of worry. "Did you think I would be mad?" 

 

"I- I wasn't sure. I know I had said that, but I was also the one who brought up the topic in the first place. I thought you might find it unfair that you shared what happened with you're own family and I wouldn't." Logan said the whole thing while looking back down at his feet. He was surprised when Harlock chuckled and glanced back up. 

 

"Different things are personal to different people for many varying reasons, Logan. My parents' death is not too sensitive of an issue for me, but that does not mean it is the same for you. And I am sure there are topics that you have no trouble talking about that I would rather shy away from." Harlock's voice was calm and patient, like a parent explaining a difficult idea to a young child. It was comforting and irritating at the same time. 

 

"I know, I understand that. It's just- I don't know, I know I should have known that but for some reason that all just flew out the proverbial window. I- I meant it when I said I would like to be friends with you and I know you said the same, but I guess I'm just scared you'll change your mind. I don't know why it's so important to me." Logan waited for the chuckle that he was sure to come, amusement over his childishness and quick attachment, but it never came. Eventually he worked up the courage to look up and saw Harlock looking at him with a strange expression. 

 

"Logan... I want this too. You wanting to protect some of your privacy, to not share part of your personal life with someone you met three days ago, is not going to push me away. I don't want you to be frightened of me..." 

 

"No! That's not it, I'm not scared of you. God, no, you're like the nicest and politest person I've ever met! I just- I don't know, I've never really had much luck with keeping friends, you know? Lots of casual friends, but nothing that was ever important to me. Every time I try and get closer to someone they start calling me clingy or making fun of me for wanting to "talk about feelings" all the time, like I'm a girl or something. And... I guess I'm just always worried now that I'm gonna say or do something wrong." Logan's fists were clenching and unclenching, fingers twitching against his thigh in an effort to expel some of the nervous energy in him.  _God, I've done it again, gone and said more than I meant to and shared more than anyone probably wants to hear._  

 

"Logan, you haven't done anything wrong. Can we-? Can we make an agreement? We already said that we don't have to answer any questions that are too personal, but what about this too? If something bothers us about what the other said or did it's okay to say so. It's okay to let the other person know and neither one of us is going to get mad about it. We'll just talk it over, explain both of our sides calmly first. If it turns out to be un-resolveable then we'll deal with it. But I don't want either one of us to feel uncomfortable or worried. I really like how honest I can be with you and how honest you've been with me; I haven't gotten to have conversations like this with anyone but my best friend in a long time. I don't want to lose that over something as silly as us being nervous because neither one of us knows how to become friends like normal people do. I'm not that normal anyway so I don't know why we should bother trying." 

 

Logan felt even more tension drain out of him and he heaved in a deep breath. "That, actually sounds perfect. I'd like that." He smiled at Harlock awkwardly, trying to convey his gratefulness for the man's patience with him. 

 

Harlock smiled back and then laughed. Logan looked at him questioningly. Harlock smiled, trying to quell his laughter a little. 

 

"It's just- God, we sound like we're stuck in the middle of some cheesy daytime opera or a sappy romcom." His eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked over at Logan with a sheepish grin on his face. 

 

Logan looked back at him for a moment, before a smile crept up on to his face. He felt a giggle bubble up from within him that he couldn't hold back, and suddenly he was laughing. He laughed until tears started to leak from his eyes, relief and happiness colliding inside of him and all the tenseness in his muscles fled. Harlock and he stood in the middle of the sidewalk and laughed for whole minutes, amused by the ridiculous situation they had found themselves in. Nervous and giddy over making friends when normal people did it all the time without batting an eye. It was like being five-years-old in kindergarten on the first day, not knowing what to say to get the other kids to like you. 

 

When they finally managed to get their giggling under control and were just standing around grinning at each other, Logan found his words again. "Thank you. I've been a mess all day today and you've been so good about it. I'm really glad I met you." 

 

Harlock looked at him with surprise that quickly gave way to a smile. "I'm glad I met you." 

 

It was about to turn awkward again with the two of them just standing there smiling at one another, but Harlock spoke up. 

 

"You, uh. Should probably get back in to work, yeah?" 

 

"Uh. Yeah. Definitely. Are you coming back to the shop or are you gonna go home?" Logan didn't think he had managed to keep as much hope out of his voice as he intended. 

 

"Well, seeing as I went in there to kill some time during my leave, I may as well continue. And now I'll have someone to talk with as well." He gave Logan a smile. 

 

"Yeah? Okay then." Logan turned forward again and the two began walking back toward the record store, and if Logan walked a little closer to his friend than before... Well, no one had to know. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nice little change in perspective for you :) I'm not sure how often I'll write from Logan's point of view since I had intended this to be from Harlock's. I figure from time-to-time it'll be nice to see what's going on in Logan's head, but it won't be like every-other chapter like some authors do. Like I said at the beginning, I'm going to try and work on this in chunks, a little bit a few times a week so that maybe I'll actually start posting on time. Here's to hoping!


	5. Thoughts in the Quiet Spaces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops. I'm a little late. I really was working on it on time though, I swear! I began writing the next chapter like a full week before the correct date, but then I hit a block right in the middle and then I was gone on a missions trip for a few days without my computer so I had to wait until I got back to keep working on it and then my weekend was full and exhausting and yeah. It just didn't work out well. 
> 
> (And now to insert my excuses about the next chapter...) But anyway, I kind of have an idea of at least how to start the next chapter, so hopefully I'll actually start sitting down to work on it... like tomorrow... so maybe I'll actually spend the whole month working on it. Don't hold your breath, you know me :)

They were back in the record store and it was getting close to closing time and Harlock was feeling nervous again for the first time in hours. 

 

Logan and he had come back to the shop after lunch and spent the afternoon talking while Logan worked. They shared stories from their childhood, goofy and stupid things they had done as teenagers, dumb stuff Logan's friends from college did on the weekends. Harlock had shared a couple bootcamp horror stories. They had talked about movies and music they liked - it turned out they had similar tastes in those things at least - their favorite foods, places they wanted to travel to. Argued and debated politics and social issues, but it never got heated and both of them had been having fun with it. There wasn't much to get upset over though, since they only disagreed on a few things and none of them were terribly serious. Sometimes they just bickered good naturedly about which flavor of ice cream was best or whether certain films should have stopped trying to make sequels. They talked and talked about anything and everything, although they never really got back into the more serious conversations they had been having every other time they'd been around each other. 

 

It was nice, though, to just talk with someone without feeling pressured into it. There had even been times when a topic tapered off, both of them running out of things to say and falling silent. But it wasn't awkward. They would just continue on with what they were doing until someone thought of something else to say. The quiet had lasted almost thirty minutes on one such occasion. But Harlock had felt comfortable with it, happy to just go over everything Logan had been saying, filing it away in a part of his brain where he would remember it all. Then he'd just stand there happy to be in Logan's presence while they both thought half-heartedly about what to talk about next. 

 

It had been one of the best afternoons Harlock had ever had, proactively making a friend for the first time in his life. Despite how good it had been, it had been pretty normal. It had started out abnormally and he was pretty sure there would still be a lot of things about their friendship that would be pretty strange, but still, this afternoon had been rather average. The kind of thing normal people did when making friends and talking about the kinds of stuff normal people did, not pouring their hearts out and blurting out personal thoughts and stories that were typically kept close to the heart for awhile. But Harlock was pretty sure that if he had not had those conversations with Logan first, if they had not had such a strange start with such raw honesty, then he would not have felt comfortable sharing even the simple stuff they had talked about all afternoon. He would not have been relaxed enough to think clearly and come up with things to say or questions to ask. He needed the chance to know that Logan was trustworthy, that he wouldn't laugh at him or want to get away from him for baring his soul. 

 

That being said, Harlock still had no idea why he had felt comfortable enough (or awkward enough) around the guy to start spilling all that stuff to begin with. It was the strangest thing that had ever happened to him and he had spent the last two days trying to figure out what it was about Logan that drew him in so powerfully. What about this dark-haired college kid who worked in a record store and studied flowers was so fascinating? What about him made Harlock  _want_ to talk about himself, to get to know him more? Sure, he was attractive, but that had never made much of a difference before. Harlock found himself wanting to know this man, to know him like he hadn't known anyone else but Toshiro, but he wanted more than that.

 

Even with as close as Harlock was to his best friend they never talked about anything the way he and Logan had. Toshiro was more the type to get straight to the point, to figure out what the problem was and find a solution. He didn't linger on the thoughts and feelings part of any issue, and even though Logan and he had only done that once or twice, Harlock was starting to realize how much he needed that. He needed to have someone to talk about those kinds of things with, to actually be able to say out loud how things were affecting him deep down. It wasn't something he had ever done before and it scared the hell out of him, but he wanted it, wanted to have a friend that he could be like that with. Honest and  _open,_ like he really was opening a hole in his body so Logan could see his soul where it was buried in his chest. It was strange and scary and good, knowing with almost absolute certainty that Logan could be that for him. 

 

So that was what Harlock was thinking about, what he had been pondering on and off all afternoon during their quiet moments. And now it was almost time for the store to close. Logan had put away the cart and price stickers nearly a half-hour ago and had started sweeping the floor and cleaning up around the front desk, getting ready to lock the door and count out the money in the cash register. And Harlock was shifting nervously on his feet wondering if he was supposed to wait for Logan to finish or if he should just go home. He wanted to stay with Logan longer but he didn't want to seem clingy or overstep any boundaries. Sure, they had already established that they could be totally honest with one another and neither of them would get upset at the other for sharing their opinion and that was all nice in theory, but what about in reality when Harlock, suddenly clingy despite his normal character, wanted to spend more time with the guy when all Logan likely wanted to do was go back home, get some dinner and go to sleep? But if Logan did want to hang out more, Harlock didn't want to say bye and leave. 

 

So here he was, shuffling around like a teenager, awkward and nervous after having spouted all that crap about it being okay to just say what they were thinking. He really should have kept his mouth shut. 

 

Harlock walked slowly over to the counter where Logan was finishing up sliding some folders back into a lock drawer. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and stood with his shoulders hunched and looking up at the younger man through the fringe of his hair. Logan glanced up before going back to his work. 

 

"Sorry, just finishing up the last of things I can before we gotta lock the doors." 

 

"Yeah, I should probably leave, right?" 

 

"Hmm?" Logan sent a questioning noise, distracted momentarily before he seemed to realize what Harlock had said and looked up quickly. "What? No, you don't have to leave. I mean, not if you don't want to. I thought... well... I was kind of wondering if you'd like to get dinner together too." 

 

Harlock felt his breath catch in his throat as those rich brown eyes looked at his with such blatant hopefulness. It was bordering on the obscene, this puppy dog look in the guy's expression.  _How am I supposed to say no to that?_ Not that he really wanted to anyway. "I don't mind. Dinner would be nice." 

 

Logan's face broke into a grin. "Yeah? Well, I'll have to count out the drawer after we lock up, but it shouldn't take long. We didn't really sell much today." 

 

"Yeah, okay." Harlock shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, but let the tenseness in his shoulders relax. "I'm just gonna wait outside, get some fresh air." 

 

Logan had turned back to his paperwork and nodded. "Okay, I'll be out in a few." 

 

Harlock turned and walked out through the glass door and leaned against the windows, mimicking the way Logan had the day Kei had come to pick him up. God, had it really only been two days ago? It felt like weeks since Harlock had stood inside and felt his stomach sink when the pretty girl had driven up and taken the young man with the brown eyes away. Seemed like forever since Logan had just been an attractive stranger that Harlock was sure would never give him a second glance. And now they were already forming a fragile friendship, but one that was looking to become very important to both of them.

 

It seemed too good to be true to Harlock who hadn't had much luck since his parents' death. It felt like that had been the breaking point - he had filled up his quota of happiness in life and after that he only was given brief periods of peace followed by bad luck and rough circumstances for increasingly longer stretches of time. Things did not go well for the pilot anymore and good things were usually only present shortly before being ripped away to leave him in emotional tatters. It was getting harder and taking longer each time to patch up the damage. Harlock was starting to feel like a kid's kite that had gotten trapped and tugged out of a tree too many times. If he got torn up even once more he'd probably fall apart forever. 

 

It sounded kind of melodramatic, even in his own head, but he was pretty sure it was true. As much as no one besides Tochiro and Melody and his parents had ever really been important to him, Harlock felt the loss of every person from his life like a knife wound. Everyone who had ever been involved with his life for more than a few days had become important to some degree. It just felt like the threads of their own lives had become intertwined with his own, however slightly, and them leaving so violently and abruptly was bound to leave damage, even if it was only a little. But added up over time, with how many people had come into Harlock's life, becoming his friends or girlfriends or boyfriends, and then leaving when it got hard to get close, Harlock was feeling pretty hurt. It was like an ache in his chest that never went away. He knew it was him and not them, he knew how difficult of a person he was to get to know. Knew that he probably wasn't an easy person to love, so he knew it was his own fault that all those people had given up and left. He could have tried harder to trust them, to let them in, but it was too difficult. 

 

The trouble was, even though they never really got to know him, he got to know them, and he had been aware of their presences. They had never really been important in a serious way, but they were part of his life and he had to readjust each and every time. It was tiring. And it hurt, even if only a little, to know that not a single person had found him worth the effort. Not one. 

 

So this thing with Logan was special and so important because it was going so well against all odds. But that also meant Harlock was that much more worried that things would go wrong, that it wouldn't last, and he would once again be left alone. And this time it would hurt that much worse. Already the idea of Logan deciding Harlock wasn't worth being friends with made him feel sick. He wasn't sure he'd be able to deal with it if their friendship kept growing like it had been. If it happened he'd probably just build up all those emotional walls again and never take them down. He'd just stay lonely and miserable forever. So really, not much different than he'd been living his whole life, but for some reason now it felt too big, too painful to handle. He'd gotten the briefest taste of what it could be like to have a good friend, someone he could go to and be accepted by, what it could be like to not be lonely, and now he couldn't go back. The blinders of ignorance had been torn away and he would know what he was missing out on, would no longer be able to pretend he was happy and content with the way things were. 

 

But, of course, these were all "ifs." Maybe Logan wouldn't turn out like the others, god he hoped so, and maybe he would stick around, become someone Harlock could count on. All he could do was hope and continue to be that kind of a friend for Logan in the hopes that it would be enough to keep the younger man around. He thought maybe he had a chance, since he was already acting far more like a friend than he ever had with anyone else, aside from maybe Melody. And Toshiro, but he didn't really count since they'd been around each other forever without choice. 

 

Harlock sighed loudly, shifting a little with the roiling thoughts in his head. He was turning maudlin and it was going to drive him nuts if he kept dwelling on it. So far Logan had shown no inclination to leave, in fact it was the total opposite, so there was no reason to suspect that he would suddenly change his mind. And continuing to think about it would just make him suspicious and twitchy for no discernible reason. If Logan started acting like he wanted out, then Harlock could get depressed and moody. No point in it presently. 

 

As if sensing his resolve, Logan chose that moment to step out the door, turning to lock it behind him. 

 

"Where's the other guy?" 

 

"Who? Roujin? Oh, he parks out back so he locks up the rear door and leaves whenever he feels like quitting for the night. The guy's got no life though so he usually stays pretty late." 

 

Harlock grunted noncommittally and watched as Logan put the key in his pocket and zipped up his jacket against the chill of the early evening. 

 

"You ready?" 

 

"Yes. So, uh... where are we going?" 

 

"Oh." Logan stopped short, a surprised look spreading across his face. "I, uh, hadn't actually thought that far ahead yet. I - " He cut himself off abruptly and ducked his head, but not before Harlock saw the beginnings of a blush filling his cheeks. 

 

He looked at Logan curiously. "You...?" 

 

The younger man turned his face up and shrugged bashfully. "I guess I was a little worried you would say no so I didn't want to get too excited about it and make plans only to have you say you'd rather go home and rest." Logan shoved his hands into his pockets, somehow managing to make the movement look embarrassed. 

 

Harlock grinned a little. "I had been thinking the same thing about you before asking if I should leave."

 

Logan blinked and then chuckled. "Man, are we ever going to stop doing this hesitant timid puppy thing?" His eyes twinkled with amusement and Harlock couldn't help chuckling himself. "I mean, every time I start to think you'll get irritated with me or that I'm thinking too much or being too forward it turns out you're on the exact same page thinking the same thing. You'd think after having it happen so many times we'd stop being so worried about it." His lips pulled up into a smile, a question in his expression. 

 

Harlock smiled softly and nodded. "All that talking I did earlier about how we should just be honest and we're still acting like nervous children. I just... You... I mean I'm..." He stumbled, his thoughts so messy and rapid in his head that he couldn't sort through them well enough to get out a coherent sentence. He couldn't even think of anything to say that didn't come across as needy and desperate. Or that didn't reveal that he wished they could be more than just friends. But he couldn't go there. So he stood there fumbling for words, frustration building until Logan spoke up. 

 

"Yeah. Me too." It was soft, so gentle and sincere and Harlock looked up to see Logan watching him with a quiet and serious expression on his face. The two of them stood there looking at each other for a short while, just reading what they could in each other's expressions. 

 

Finally Harlock managed to get his throat working again. "So, dinner? What are you in the mood for?" 

 

Logan shook his head a little at the abrupt change but responded back almost immediately. "Chinese." 

 

Harlock nodded. "Well, you're the one who lives here so if you know a place, lead on." 

 

Logan turned abruptly and started heading down the sidewalk, throwing a quick glance over his shoulder to see that Harlock followed and the two of them walked off together to hunt down dinner. 

 

~~~ 

 

Dinner was a quiet affair, both men seemingly out of things to say. Or maybe just feeling a little awkward after the conversation outside the record store. Harlock was wishing there was a way to keep the friendship going as it had been but without all of the tension, but he didn't think it would be possible for him. He felt like he was tiptoeing through a field scattered with glass, constantly worried that he would reveal too much. 

 

Normally it shouldn't have been an issue, he had always kept things close to his chest and never revealed more about what he thought or felt than he wanted to. But he was quickly realizing that wasn't going to be the case with Logan. Things just spilled out of his mouth. Personal things. Things that he never said out loud to anyone, let alone some guy he hardly knew. But Logan felt safe, it seemed like Harlock could trust him with all of those things, all the dark and sensitive stuff that he had never thought he would be able to share with anyone.

 

So now he was stuck trying to filter every thought before he actually spoke, refraining from saying anything that would make Logan realize that Harlock wanted more than just friendship. The younger man had given no indication that he was interested in Harlock that way and why would he be? No, there was no way some young, handsome, smart, and kind guy like that would ever like someone like Harlock. He was broody and private and had a horrible track record with all kinds of relationships with people. There were much better options out there for a guy like Logan, so Harlock would just keep his little secret crush to himself. If it came out it would just make things awkward, even if Logan decided to stick around. Harlock knew he was lucky the guy even wanted to be friends. He wasn't going to ruin it by mentioning that not only was he interested in guys but that he was interested in Logan specifically. 

 

Rather than open his mouth and risk something telling slipping out, Harlock just spent dinner quietly chewing his lo mein and answering the few questions Logan asked slowly and carefully, weighing every word and how they all fit together to be sure nothing he said could be taken the wrong way. It was exhausting. And the whiplash of his thoughts and feelings going from happy to worried was making his head hurt. 

 

But he couldn't deny the fact that he was enjoying himself, had been all day. As much as he couldn't admit it out loud, he could admit it to himself: he liked Logan. And not just as in that he wanted to date the guy, but he just liked him as a person. He was funny on rare occasions, although neither of them had attempted much humor. He was kind and polite, had an interesting way of thinking. He was so damn curious about everything and it was adorable. He loved his family, his brother, which kind of irritated Harlock, but at least Logan was smart enough to acknowledge that his brother was a jerk. 

 

"Don't get me wrong, Ezra's pretty nasty when he wants to be. He's got his own ideas about how things should be. And he's manipulative and borderline crazy with his idealism. But he's my brother and he took care of me after our parents died. And... well, he wasn't always like that. He was really broken up after they died, especially because of Nami." 

 

"Who's Nami?" 

 

By now, the two had finished their meals and left the restaurant, walking back toward the store where Logan's car was parked. He had volunteered to drive Harlock back to the base, so they were quietly strolling down the dark streets, talking quietly. 

 

"Nami's a childhood friend. Ezra had always loved her more than anyone and it turned romantic when he hit fifteen. She got hurt not long after our parents died and now she's in a coma. I'm not really sure which one hurt him more, but... well, he's never been the same since. He's... angry now, all the time. He'd always been kind of an ass, but after Nami..." 

 

Harlock mulled it around in his head. Talking about Ezra stirred up bad memories, reminding him of all his biggest mistakes. Harlock had been wrecked, drowning in guilt and all the thoughts about everything he had done wrong and Ezra had thrown it all in his face. But he wasn't really sure that his newfound knowledge about the man's painful past made a difference. Everyone has lost someone, doesn't give them the right to make everyone else miserable too. 

 

"I'm not trying to defend him or make excuses. He's a nasty guy most days and downright cruel if you get on his radar. I just want you to know that it's not entirely his fault." Logan paused and then chuckled. "Almost entirely, but not completely." 

 

Harlock nodded, acknowledging Logan's comment, but not agreeing to it or wanting to argue it. He didn't really think it was worth it to tell the man that he absolutely loathed his brother and wasn't inclined to change his mind just because the guy had had a rough time of things. So he just nodded and continued walking silently. Logan seemed to understand that there was nothing more to be said on the topic and stayed silent as well. 

 

They made it all the way back to the record store and into Logan's car without a word being said. After so long in silence it was hard to break it. The air felt heavy, Harlock trying to avoid thinking about things he wished he forget but refused to try to forget, it was his punishment after all, and Logan seemingly waiting for Harlock to make the first move. They climbed into the car and Harlock spoke into the quiet between Logan buckling in and reaching his keys forward to start the car. 

 

"Thank you. For driving me back." It felt grossly inadequate, the sounds breaking the silence jarringly and the words not really feeling worth saying when the previous conversation had been so serious, bringing up such dark and unpleasant memories. 

 

Logan smiled a little and nodded, starting the car and pulling out into the road. "It's no problem. I have to drive past the base to get back to the school anyway. Now I just have to go around the far side. It's only a few minutes out of the way." 

 

"Still. My thanks." 

 

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. 

 

"What?" 

 

The younger man snickered again but turned to Harlock with an apologetic look. "Sorry, it's just- Well, sometimes you talk really formally. Reminds me of old literature or Vulcans or something. Is that just how your parents talked?" 

 

Harlock was used to people pointing out his rather strange manner of talking, like he was from some stuffy high society or had time jumped from the 1800s. "No, I just read a lot when I was a kid and my parents never really kept children's books around. So I grew up reading a lot of old British literature - Chaucer, Shakespeare, Doyle, Milton, Austin. Things of that sort. I think I learned how to talk more from those books than I ever did from any one person, although my mother did speak a touch more formally than most people. Part of being from a family of musicians, I think. They just tend to think differently and speak more poetically, more eloquently." Harlock paused; people commented on his speech patterns frequently but everyone's responses to it were different and he never knew if people found it fascinating or irritating. "Does it bother you?" 

 

"What? No, not at all." Logan seemed genuinely surprised at the question. "I thought it was kind of endearingly attractive, actually." 

 

 _What? Did he really just say...?_ Harlock hardly dared to hope, heart beating faster in his chest.

  

Suddenly, Logan slammed his jaw closed, cheeks darkening sharply and eyes going wide, turning slowly to look at Harlock. For a moment, he almost looked desperate, like he was pleading for something, but it passed so quickly Harlock couldn't be sure, and then he turned back to face the road and drove forward under the green streetlights, hiding his expression from Harlock's roving eyes. 

 

"Sorry, that came out wrong. I didn't mean it like that, just that it suits you, you know? Makes you more interesting." 

 

 _Oh._  

 

"So, yeah, sorry. I'm not trying to come onto you, so please don't feel awkward." 

 

They were pulling up to the gates of the base as Logan finished speaking, Harlock feeling the brief flare of hope die off again. It was getting old, having that happen so often. "Of course. No need to worry, I understand. Sometimes your mouth just spits things out." His gut felt like it was full of lead. Sure, it happened, but why did it have to be something like  _that?_  

 

Logan let out a long breath, before turning a grin his way. It was so bright Harlock felt his own breath freeze. "Thanks. I didn't want you thinking I was trying to hit on you or something, wouldn't want to make things weird." 

 

_Please, just stop._

 

If the kid didn't quit talking Harlock was sure he would lash out, say something horribly mean in retaliation for the pain that he was feeling. "Yes, I understand completely." He gathered up his jacket quickly, checking his pockets for his belongings and then reached for the door handle. "Again, thank you for the ride." Maybe if he just got out of there quickly enough, escaped to his room, he could pretend the last few minutes had never happened. He was already making plans to cut back on the time he had begun to think he would be spending in the record store, staying away from Logan before the guy figured out just how gone Harlock was and how much the young man's words had just cut into him. "Well, I guess I should get going." 

 

"You'll come back to the store again, right? I work again tomorrow afternoon." The expression of hopefulness on Logan's face was almost blinding, so open with its soft smile and curious eyes. 

 

_God, how am I supposed to say no to that?_

 

"Uh, yes. I'll come around some time." 

 

"Great!" 

 

No, forget it,  _that_ smile was blinding. It could rival the sun. Maybe if he could just keep seeing that smile it would be worth all the pain of being around the kid who had just made it very clear that he had no interest in the older man. Maybe. 

 

Harlock just nodded briefly and closed the door. He walked up to the gate and paused to throw a wave at Logan as he backed out and into the road. He watched the car drive off, wondering if making friends with Logan would really turn out as great as he had been hoping. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I've just been writing the same basic scenario for the last three chapters just with different conversations. Hopeful longing mixed with a desperate attempt to quell such hopes and awkward teenage-girl like stilted conversations and puppy dog eyes. 
> 
> But I think maybe the tail end of this chapter is the start of something a little different. Their relationship has just changed, even if Logan doesn't know it yet. So hopefully this will change the dynamic and make things a bit more interesting....


	6. Pulling Back Hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do actually have a decent excuse this time for posting late... Almost. I should have been working on this in the weeks following the last posting. I can't tell you why I didn't, especially since I said I had an idea of what I wanted to do next. I don't remember what that idea was anymore. 
> 
> Anyway, I've been in Japan on an internship for the last three months and just got back a few days ago. Like the day I was supposed to post the next chapter... So, yeah, I was spending the days preceding that shopping, packing, saying goodbye, etc. and just didn't really have the time to write. And then I was traveling for 40ish hours and then just relaxing at home. So, I'm just now sitting down to write again, both to get this chapter out and to start catching up on my other projects as well as finishing up the last few assignments I have for school before I graduate(!!!). So yeah. Life is chaotic and messy and busy. My apologies. As of right now, though, things have slowed down considerably and until I get a job my schedule is almost entirely free. Since writing makes me feel at least a little productive maybe I'll actually start getting things done....

_Well that was less than pleasant_. 

 

Harlock was back in his room, bare back leaning against the tile of his shower wall, water battering against his chest and sliding down his body. The room was filled with steam but the water was beginning to cool; he didn't know how long he'd been standing there, staring blankly. 

 

Logan had made it abundantly clear that he was by no means interested in the older man, vehemently opposing the idea that he had been trying to hit on Harlock in any way shape or form. He had never been more disappointed to know that someone wasn't attracted to him. 

 

He supposed he shouldn't be so hurt by it, it was exactly what he had expected after all. Why would such a young and wonderful guy be interested in a cranky, injured ex-pilot? It still hurt though. Damn, did it hurt, like a blade slicing slowly through his already weak and confused heart, drawing out the ache and leaving his blood to drip onto the floor. He had felt so exposed, so vulnerable. He had barely begun to really hope that maybe something could happen when the knife had wormed and stabbed its way through the narrow opening, digging deep so quickly it had stolen his breath for a moment. 

 

Now, here he stood nearly an hour later, still sulking. And that's what he was doing. Sulking. Brooding. Maudlin, morose, depressed. Well, that might be too extreme of a word, but he was definitely upset. Melancholy, maybe. So much potential dashed in an instant. And now what to do about it? Continue on with this friendship, suffering through the nearness that would never be quite near enough? Or pull back and risk hurting Logan in the process by not fulfilling the promise of friendship that they had both declared they wanted? Selfishly protect his own heart, try and back away and allow himself time to forget the ache? Or push on and ignore the pain, taking what little comfort he could by just being able to enjoy the younger man's presence, as much as it wouldn't be quite what he wanted? 

 

Oh the dilemma. And he only had until the next afternoon to make up his mind as Logan had invited him to come by the next day while he worked. Harlock didn't know when next he would be at the shop, so if he wanted to continue then he would need to be around consistently, would need to find out or make plans for when they could keep meeting. But if he wanted to pull back, he could not show up tomorrow and then go back some other day and make an excuse. It wasn't exactly classy, but when was saving your own skin at the expense of someone else ever honorable? 

 

Harlock turned in the tub, bracing his hands on the wall below the faucet and letting the water hit the back of his head where it bowed forward to look at the floor, rivulets streaming down his neck and back. This is why he didn't try and make friends. 

 

~~~

 

Eventually he decided that he couldn't break a commitment, regardless of how much he might want to. He had told Logan he would stop by that afternoon, so he would. It didn't mean he had to stay for long or even chat a whole lot. He could go back to what he had done that first day, browsing silently alone before leaving early to grab dinner by himself and going back to the base for a quiet evening of reading. The fact that he was already missing dark brown eyes and a soft smile so much it ached had nothing to do with why he spent over an hour walking through town to get to the record store. 

 

He stopped when he got to the end of the block, staring at the multicolored windows, covered in posters and advertisements, trying to work up the energy he would need to make it through the next hour or two without revealing just how disappointed he was that this friendship would never be anything  _more_. 

 

It was nearly five minutes before he mustered up the resolve to make it to the shop and push through the door into the fluorescent-lit room. Logan was standing near the middle of the room, surrounded by records, back to his job of peeling off stickers and relabeling all the albums. It seemed like he had been there a couple of hours already as he was a few shelves away from where he had left off the previous night before cleaning up the store at closing time. If Harlock stuck with his plan of going through each shelf methodically, picking up where he had left off, maybe the physical distance would make it easier to keep from starting up a conversation and allow the metaphorical distance to increase. Not likely, but he could cross his fingers. 

 

While he stood there debating whether to walk in and go to his last stop from the previous day or to just stand across from Logan like normal the college student finally looked up to see the customer that had walked in but not actually entered the room. Harlock nearly reeled back a step from the brightness of Logan's face when it lit up as he realized who was standing in the store. He couldn't help the pleased smile that formed on his own face, knowing that someone was so happy to see him. Logan sent him a quick wave in greeting, smile still firmly in place and eyes sparkling, before he turned back to the records in front of him. Mind made up, Harlock marched across the floor to stop at the opposite side of the shelf Logan was working at, deciding he could always return to the few shelves he was skipping over later. He just couldn't disappoint the man, couldn't bear the thought that he could be responsible for that smile fading away. 

 

"Hey." Logan's eyes were still downcast, concentrating on his work, but the happy smile could still be seen by the corners of his upturned lips and Harlock was sure his eyes weren't deceived in seeing a faint dusting of pink across the younger man's cheekbones. 

 

"Hello." 

 

"How are you today? Did you have a good morning?" 

 

"I am... decidedly normal. It has not been a day any more eventful or pleasing than any other so far. Entirely average." 

 

Logan smiled at him, a wryness to the set of his mouth. "I see. I suppose mine was much the same, although I probably would've just said, 'I'm good.' They way you put it seems more accurate, though." 

 

"I have always found that phrase to be an immensely inappropriate way of answering that question. 'How are you feeling? How is your day faring?' 'Oh, I am a good person!'" Harlock shook his head. "A proper response would be 'I'm feeling good,' or 'I'm having a good day.' At least, that is how it has always sounded to me. I suppose I analyze things far more than most and am a touch more conceded about accuracy in word usage." 

 

Logan grinned. "Apparently so. Makes sense, though." 

 

Harlock nodded and looked down at the records in front of him, starting to sort through them as per usual. It was quiet after that for awhile, almost an hour passing in total silence. It was the middle of the afternoon when the shop was normally quite slow since most people were at work during those hours and no one else entered the store. Harlock, in an attempt to try and keep what distance he could, did not say anything and Logan never spoke up either. It did not feel comfortable as it had during dinner the night before, at least not to Harlock. This seemed far more awkward, as if both were holding back, waiting for the other to do something first. It made him jittery. 

 

Logan appeared calm and collected, focused on his task and humming under his breath from time to time. It did not seem as if he were nervous or uncomfortable with the situation at all. Maybe the air of discord that Harlock felt was following him around was not really all that easy to notice. He had always been rather good at hiding what he was feeling after all. 

 

When Logan finally did speak again, he didn't seem at all bothered by the fact that it had been silent, just picked up with his story as if continuing a conversation. 

 

"So there's this floor on my campus that's known for always having a bunch of crazy, energetic, and weird guys on it. Been like that for years. I guess one year they just so happened to get a group of Freshman guys who were all a bit goofy and too reckless to know better and started up all these traditions and ridiculous escapades that they roped all the other guys on the floor into. So they just kept it up year after year, dragging all the incoming Freshman and underclassmen on the floor into so that decades later the stuff still happens. And even though most of the people that move onto the floor are pretty normal they just get caught up in the crazy and all end up participating in the weird stuff they do."

 

Logan chuckled briefly. "One of my professors was actually on that floor back in the day, like thirty years ago. He told us this story about his Freshman year. He had been this super skinny and shy kid on this floor of rambunctious and harebrained college guys, just trying to survive and avoid their games. So it was like late November, maybe early December, and he was in his dorm room reading. It was like nine o'clock at night and he had been hearing the noise from the other rooms get louder and louder when the door suddenly burst open and he saw that the hallway had filled with all the guys on the floor, all of them buck ass naked. So he was just laying in his bed staring while this Senior standing in the doorway started shouting at him to strip. Eventually the guy got impatient and charged into the room and pulled him up to start yanking his clothes off and shove him out into the hall. So there he was, surrounded by screaming, naked men, standing on a cold tile floor with no idea what is happening."

 

 

Harlock smiled a bit to himself and saw Logan suppressing a grin.

 

"He kind of thought it was some kind of belated initiation thing but then one of the Seniors stood up on a box near the entrance to the building and called out all ominously, 'It's time!' and started counting down from ten. All the other guys in the hall joined in, bouncing up-and-down on their toes, shaking out their limbs, voices getting louder and louder, psyching themselves up for god knows what. '3...2...1... GO!' They all burst into movement and ran out the door into the frigid air, dragging their Freshman victims with them, all of them just struggling to keep from getting trampled and staring at each other with wide, panicked eyes."

 

Harlock started to chuckle as Logan continued with mischief dancing in his eyes.

 

"My professor figured out pretty quickly what was happening. The ground was freshly covered in snow - pale, white flakes still drifting down from the dark sky - and all the guys are running through it, kicking it around, some stopping to throw themselves on the ground and make snow angels. All completely naked. There seemed to be a route to follow though, because most of them were moving off in the same direction. Rather than prolong the suffering, he decided to beat everyone back just so he could be warm again, knowing they were weren't going to let him get left behind. He had almost made it back, was rounding the corner of the last building, when he pulled to stop right in front of this group of girls who are just standing there staring." 

 

A bark of laughter escaped from his mouth before Harlock could help it and Logan glanced at him with a quick grin before diving right back into the story, arms waving around and eyes darting. 

 

"These girls burst out laughing as they see this whole line of guys coming up behind him, all naked with red feet and noses, practically tripping over each other in clumsiness and shock. The guy behind my professor just shoved him forward and in his embarrassment he took off sprinting, somehow getting back to the dorm like a whole two minutes ahead of everyone else. Thankfully it was so dark no one could really tell who anyone else was, so he's pretty sure those girls didn't know it was him. He couldn't tell who they were at least, not in the dark." 

 

Harlock chuckled a bit, looking up at Logan to find the younger man watching him, amusement written on his face. He shook his head once or twice before continuing. 

 

"I got distracted, sorry. I just couldn't help telling that story. Anyway, so things are still like that with the guys in that building. This morning I had to go see a friend so we could work on a project together and he happens to live on that floor. It's an old dormitory, just one level and the floors are all tile and the ceilings low. The heating and air conditioning sucks because the sensors are only in one room so it kicks on or off depending on the temperature of that one dorm room. Basically, the winters are freezing and at the beginning and end of the school year it's swelteringly hot, which apparently means they have to get creative to find ways to keep cool or warm depending on the season." 

 

Logan paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, seeming to be sorting his thoughts out. Harlock could tell this was going somewhere and it was probably going to be humorous so he just kept silent, waiting for Logan to continue. 

 

"Well I got there and stepped inside only to find that the floor was soaking wet. I mean, there was like an inch of standing water. So I was just standing there all confused in my sopping wet shoes when I heard shouting and I looked up just in time to get bowled over and knocked flat on my back."

 

The younger man had to pause, the giggling preventing him from speaking for a moment. "I found myself in a tangle of limbs with some guy in nothing but swim trunks and a pair of snorkel goggles - you know, the ones that cover your nose and everything? - practically swimming in water. We managed to get disentangled and standing up before I could get a good look around. So I see that all the doors are closed and there's this giant blue tarp stretched across the hallway floor, creeping up the sides of the walls by a foot or so, and a group of guys standing near the end of it, all of them in their swim trunks or boxers. One of them was sitting on the floor at the far end with a running hose in one hand and a bottle of dish soap in the other, grinning like a maniac with a leigh of flowers around his neck and a grass crown on his head."

 

Logan chuckled again. "Turns out they decided to drag in one of the maintenance hoses used for watering the flowers on campus and an industrial sized tarp from the gymnasium to make a slip 'n slide." 

 

"Did anyone get hurt?" 

 

"Not as far as I know. Although, I think if anyone did get hurt they probably would have just kept it to themselves or had one of the guys on the floor take care of it. They wouldn't want the school to find out, otherwise they'd get in trouble for possibly causing water damage. Or just being reckless and stupid in general." Logan threw him a grin and dissolved into quiet laughter, head shaking back and forth at the ridiculousness of it all. 

 

Harlock laughed briefly too, a grin on his face, partially from the humor of the story but mostly just because Logan laughing looked so  _perfect_. Logan had begun to snicker, finally finished with the story and able to let himself laugh about it, grin tugging at the corner of his mouth and eyes sparkling with mirth. His hair had gotten brushed out of his eyes at some point and his cheeks were flushed from giddiness. Logan's small smiles, even his grins had practically taken Harlock's breath away but he hadn't seen the boy laugh yet, not truly. It was beautiful. 

 

And it was that thought that suddenly made Harlock remember why he wasn't supposed to be here. He couldn't have this, Logan did not want him like that, didn't want  _more._

 

 _What am I doing?_  

 

Harlock forced himself to keep smiling for a bit longer, but let it slowly slip off his face as he tried to pry his eyes away from the site of Logan happy and smiling. He finally managed, dropping his gaze back down to the forgotten vinyl in his hands. He barely glanced at it before discarding it and picking up another that he looked at blankly for a moment before setting it down as well and moving on to the next in the stack. He spared a peek at Logan to see the man returning to his work but still grinning to himself, shoulders shaking with silent chuckles every few seconds. 

 

He brought his eyes back to his own task, despite how little attention he was actually devoting to it, just trying to pull back a little and remind himself not to get carried away. It was so easy to just laugh along, to talk with Logan and banter and tease and share stories. It shouldn't be so easy but it was and he couldn't do that anymore. Not anymore. 

 

A few minutes passed before Logan started speaking quietly, face down and fringe hiding his face from Harlock's gaze. "Hey. So I was thinking. There's this diner that I know of, kind of far to walk to, but if we take the car it isn't too bad of a distance. It's actually in the neighborhood where I grew up, my family used to go there all the time when I was a kid, like almost every week it seemed. They've got some of the best steak and cornbread I've ever had. What do you think, you wanna try it out?" 

 

Harlock wracked his brain, trying to come up with a legitimate excuse not to go. He wanted to, desperately, but that was the problem. He  _loved_ being around Logan, but it was agonizing. Seeing that wide smile and those bright, shining eyes. It was too tempting and he needed to back away as much as he could bear it. He just wasn't sure yet which hurt worse, being around Logan and not being able to touch, to ask for  _more_ , or not being near him at all. Last night and this morning had  _ached_ but this afternoon had been torture. He didn't think he could take much more without messing up, without saying more than he meant to. So he took the easy way out and made something up. 

 

"Uh, sorry. I have a meeting I need to attend tonight so I can't stay. I should actually probably get going now." 

 

"Oh." Logan's face had fallen rapidly and Harlock felt his heart sink. He should never look like that. "Well, I guess we'll have to save it for next time. I don't work on Sundays, but maybe Monday?" 

 

That hopeful look was back, the one that made Harlock want to fall on his knees and give Logan anything he asked for. He had to bite his tongue before promising anything, made himself stop and think before answering, trying to be as vague as possible without actually lying. "Umm... I'm not actually sure what I'm doing Monday. I'll come if I can." 

 

 _If I can be around you without doing something stupid, that is. Like kissing you._  

 

"Oh. Okay." Logan's face had fallen again, though not nearly so terribly. He smiled a little. "I understand, you must be busy. Don't feel obligated or anything, I don't want to take up your time. I was just hoping... if you were available..." 

 

Harlock nodded quickly, trying to stop the younger man from continuing before the entreaties could wear him down any farther. "If I can." 

 

Logan smiled. "Okay. I'll be looking forward to it. But I guess you've gotta get going?" 

 

Harlock nodded again. "Yes, thank you. I will see you sometime again." 

 

"Okay. See you!" Logan waved as Harlock backed down the aisle and turned to head out onto the sidewalk to begin his walk home. He tried to push away the thought that he was fleeing like a coward. 

 

~~~ 

 

"What do you mean he's not interested? You just told me you spent the whole day together yesterday and that the guy has asked you to join him for every meal that you've been around each other for and keeps inviting you to come back. How could he not be interested?" 

 

Harlock sighed, dragging his palm across his face. "Sometimes, Tochiro, people just want to be friends. Friends spend time together too, you know." 

 

"Nope. Sorry. Not buying it. No one asks their friends to hang out this much. He's interested. He just probably doesn't think  _you're_ interested." 

 

"I seriously doubt that is the case. What about me could he possibly be interested in?" 

 

Harlock's ears were met with dead silence from the other end of the line. 

 

"What?" 

 

"That does not even deign a response. You obviously have no idea how people see you, do you?" 

 

Harlock quirked an eyebrow, letting some sarcasm creep into his voice. "I think the string of exes makes it rather clear, don't you?" 

 

"What do you mean?" 

 

"Well, I suppose people find me attractive enough, maybe even a bit charming initially. But apparently not worthwhile longterm. I've allowed Logan to see enough of my personality for him to have figured out by now that I'm not exactly prime long-term relationship material. Not to mention the age difference." 

 

"Yeah. No. Firstly, five years is not that big of a deal. Secondly? No. Just... No. You are definitely worth a long-term relationship, but no one you've come across is worthy of  _you_. None of them put forth the effort to get to know you, to figure you out. None of them even really tried. They didn't realize who you really are underneath all that stoic mysteriousness and that's their loss." 

 

Harlock leaned back where he was sitting at the end of his bed, letting his head rest against the wall and closing his eyes tiredly. "And who am I really underneath this facade you mention?" 

 

"Brave. Unendingly loyal. Brilliantly intelligent. Romantic. Protective. A bit reckless. Tenacious. Kind, if a bit rough around the edges. Ambitious. Serious, usually, but you've got enough sarcasm and dry wit to build a desert. Kind of a pessimist, like the 'doom and gloom is everywhere' type, but I'm working on it." 

 

"Thank you." 

 

"Don't mention it. A little dramatic too. But... you're good. I've never seen someone who's so worried about making things right before. And not just for yourself, although this redemption schtick you've had going for awhile now is impressive, but you've got a martyr's streak to last a mile too. And observant. I've seen you with those exes of yours, you pay attention to everything, notice every little detail about them. I don't know how they don't realize it but you always manage to pick out the tiniest of things about them - favorite color and... and how they have their coffee and what kind of restless habits they have, like... which finger starts getting twitchy when they're impatient - without any of them every actually saying anything about it. I know you think you're a horrible boyfriend because you never let them in and they always give up so you think you must not be worth the effort but... I think you've never let anyone in because some part of you knows they're not the right one, they're not the one you can trust with yourself. You've got some rough stuff in your life, always have, and I don't think most people know how to handle it. Or you. You're... different... from most people. So most people can't figure you out, wouldn't know how to treat you right, how to take care of you. And I think you've always known that, it's why you never really trust anyone enough to open up to them." 

 

Harlock sat stunned in silence for a few moments, processing the astuteness of his friend. He had always known Tochiro knew him better than anyone else, but he didn't realize he was so observant. "That... is incredibly well-thought out." 

 

"Hey, you're not the only one who pays attention." 

 

Harlock could hear the grin in his friend's voice and let his own smile widen. 

 

"Anyway, the point is, I think this Logan guy is different. It sounds like you've been able to talk with this kid more than anyone except for Mel or I. That's a big deal. So there must be something about him, something deep inside of you that knows you can trust him. I don't think it'd be like that, I don't think you would be able to like him like that  _and_ trust him if he didn't feel the same way. Just doesn't make sense." 

 

Tochiro ceased monologuing, seeming to allow Harlock the time to think it through. He contemplated silently for a few minutes, rolling the thoughts around in his head and examining them from all angles. He had always known that sometimes he just had gut feelings about things that usually turned out right, but he hadn't really ever thought about it being the reason why he had never opened up to anyone before, hadn't thought that it could be because some subconscious part of him knew he couldn't trust those people, not with the important parts of himself, the dark and deep stuff he never really felt comfortable sharing. But he had shared them with Logan. Right from the start. And Logan had "handled it," as Tochiro called it, never judging him or shrinking away from the darker stuff. Maybe there was some truth to what Tochiro was saying, maybe Logan _was_ interested... 

 

 _Could he be doing the same thing I am? Interested in me but thinking I couldn't possibly be interested in him?_  

 

The thought came to him suddenly, but it made sense. It would explain why Logan had so fervidly denied the implication that he was interested in Harlock, that he was flirting or making a pass or whatever. Harlock would have done the same, after all, if he had been the one to slip up and make a similar comment. 

 

"...You... might be right." 

 

Tochiro scoffed. "Of course I'm right. So go out there and talk to him. Wait, don't even bother, just ask him out on a date, that'll get the point across." 

 

"Can I not just continue being friends for a time? Let ourselves get to know each other a bit more before trying to turn this into something romantic?" 

 

"I mean you could, but that wouldn't be nearly as fun." 

 

"Tochiro..." 

 

"Right, got it, shutting up! If you want to take it slow, that's your prerogative." Harlock could practically _hear_ the shrug through the phone line. "Just don't let him slip out of your hands by taking too long to make it known you're interested. He might get tired of waiting and move on to someone else." 

 

"Yes, I know." Harlock allowed himself to relax a little, having been tense and irritated since the night before. Maybe things weren't so dire as he had thought. "...Thank you." 

 

"Eh. It's what I'm here for, making sure you're not begin a dumb ass." 

 

Harlock chuckled. "I suppose. I'm going to get some sleep now, though, if that is alright with you?" 

 

"Yep. Get your beauty sleep. Don't want to look like a zombie when you go see your man." 

 

"He's not 'my man.'" 

 

"Not yet, anyway," Tochiro said, voice dripping with the smirk he was likely wearing. 

 

"Goodnight, Tochiro." 

 

"Night!" 

 

Harlock hung up and dropped his hand into his lap, clenching the phone in his fingers and sighing. He was exhausted. He wasn't sure if he really believed Tochiro, but at least for now he was convinced enough to allow himself to hope again. But he was still going to take it slow. If Logan really was interested he wanted to take advantage of that, but he also didn't want to rush it. He was enjoying this friendship they were forming and didn't want to push it to change yet. He would wait awhile still and see what happened. But he wasn't going to give up on wanting more, not yet. 

 

Harlock placed the phone on his nightstand and turned out the lamp, deciding he was too tired to think about it anymore tonight. He slid underneath the covers of his bed and let his eyes drift closed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have plot progression! Is one of them actually starting to realize they might not be the only one interested? Could things actually start happening? I always love those fanfics that are like 50,000 words long and have like 20,000 words of just relationship-building, the characters hanging out and talking and goofing off, but I don't know how well I can pull it off. Give me ideas for things for them to do? Conversations to have? 
> 
> So both of the stories Logan tells are actually true ones from my college campus. One of my professors was a resident in "The Hole," the first men's dorm building on my campus, known for its shenanigans. That building is now all offices, but the spirit of the place has moved on to one of the floors in the new men's dorm where it lives on strong and proud in the young men who enter each year. The slip 'n slide incident was actually from a year or two before my time, but I have friends who participated. I think someone might have sprained an ankle, but my memory is shotty. So both of those tales are slightly more embellished than the versions I heard but I was trying to make them more humorous. I don't know if I succeeded, though. I'm really bad at telling funny stories...
> 
>  
> 
> In the hope that I stay motivated to keep writing, I beg you for comments. They are my food and my light. Seriously, they make my day, even if it's just "Much writing. Very good. Wow. More!" And as I said last time. Though my hopes are high, I make no promises.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](onoheiwa.tumblr.com).


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